A falling leaf,
Barely touching the ground
As we inhale the autumn for the first time,
Enjoying its shine and glimmer,
Taking pride in its hot colours,
It is a game of the nature,
A symbol of fragile independence.
It falls down like my mood
When you don't call me back.
A leaf that shines like a gilded painting,
A statue made of sunlight,
A meaningful letter in an old book,
A note as light as the air
In a song of this special autumn,
Its roaring colours,
A pulsation of orange and magenta
And a rapid silence
Of the sundown by a pond.