Poem of the Week | A Tree’s First Frost by David O’Sullivan

A Tree’s First Frost

By David O’Sullivan


I feel for you

this cold morning

your old die,


all around, sadness.

Then with both hands

I hold, comfort


your extremities.

Painful to my hands

trying to warm,


no thaw

the first frost.

With my touch


I felt a oneness,

knew in that moment

you understand


life cycles

better than I

ever will.


Cold death now

your leaves fall,

timely tears.

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Cover photo by Claus Grünstäudl on Unsplash