# Poem #40: The Leaves

Author: bhscorch1313
Tags: Nature, Poetry

#41 of Poetry

Sophmore year my English teacher took us outside, and told us to find two things and write a poem describing what we perceive about the things using the five senses. This is one of those two poems.

_The Leaves_

The leaves are damp, but not cold;   
They feel as if they have been run   
 Under luke warm tap water.   
The smell of dew upon grass   
Is found, like upon the morn.   
They curl as a paper in fire,   
Only slower.

They are dirty and stained, like   
 A spot on a carpet, or the   
Spots of the elderly.

Coarse, yet delicate; delicate   
 As brittle bone and smooth as   
An old sidewalk.

Light as a feather; adding to   
 Its delicacy.   
 Its age causing it to fall   
 Apart and crackle, as a fire   
 Sounds and dried mud fails.   
 Ripping apart like the clothes   
On a person's back.

~bhscorch

[![Creative Commons License](http://i.creativecommons.org/l/by-nd/3.0/88x31.png)](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/3.0/)  
"The Leaves" by bhscorch is licensed under a [Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License](http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/3.0/)

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/YnLE2rp1
Part of the series Poetry
Previous: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/334476-poem-39-memories.md
Next: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/334928-poem-41-the-wall.md