Autumn
colours
All
decaying to grey
Except
the ivy
(Simultaneously
published at POETS The Original)
The scattered pine trees
Bowing to the North wind
All are seen as one
Frog jumps
into pond
Water cries
out in surprise
Howzit
moon's image?
Sweet
pumpkins
And heeps of
sweet root
Scarecrow
licks his lips
A beggar at
the
Entrance of
the underground
Still got
worker’s hands
Sand, sand,
sand
And brackish
water
Oasis still
dreams away
Thanksgiving
After this
golden harvest
Squirrel,
too
Autumn
approaching
Colours are
lugubrious
But not
cricket’s song
.
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