Next came an elderly man, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for a scrap.
Elias didn’t write them for money. He wrote them because he had a surplus of words and a shortage of someone to say them to. He watched from behind the counter as people drifted in, seeking shelter from the storm.
Elias realized then that while he had been giving poems away all day, he might have finally found the one worth keeping.
She picked up the last slip. It was one Elias had written that morning, feeling particularly lonely.
She looked up from the paper, her eyes meeting his. "I've always preferred the stories that have been loved before," she said.
The man closed his eyes, his lips moving as if reciting a name from a lifetime ago. He didn’t take the paper; he folded it neatly and placed it back for the next person, his eyes misty but bright.
Next came an elderly man, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for a scrap.
Elias didn’t write them for money. He wrote them because he had a surplus of words and a shortage of someone to say them to. He watched from behind the counter as people drifted in, seeking shelter from the storm. LOVE POEMS - Poems for Free
Elias realized then that while he had been giving poems away all day, he might have finally found the one worth keeping. Next came an elderly man, his hands trembling
She picked up the last slip. It was one Elias had written that morning, feeling particularly lonely. He watched from behind the counter as people
She looked up from the paper, her eyes meeting his. "I've always preferred the stories that have been loved before," she said.
The man closed his eyes, his lips moving as if reciting a name from a lifetime ago. He didn’t take the paper; he folded it neatly and placed it back for the next person, his eyes misty but bright.