Melancholy blows through the trees
Indecisive spring or is it autumn?
Gusts of memories... I’d like a quiet breeze
to caress me gently, soft as cotton.
Melancholy – all seems at an end.
Mountains of green – a waste, please give me autumn.
Wine-colored, zig-zagged leaves I’d send
to a friend who thinks he’s hit rock bottom.
Spring Melancholy
© Copyright: Athena, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102052500203
Свидетельство о публикации №102052500203
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