Autumn is walking so soundlessly like a cat
Making the earth lament mournfully with regret
Softly and restlessly touching the trees with its paws
Leaving them leafless and taking away their force
Nothing could possibly strengthen their vigourless souls
Raving about misfortunes and grieving for tolls
With heavy rains to cry over the emptying ground
And with nobody to give consolation around..
Clouds are haunted with playsome and mischievous wind
Whispering silently, trying to drop us a hint
Urging for no one to be so trustfully blind
For every Fall there is Winter that goes behind..
/Millerovo, November, 2020/
Autumn is walking..
© Copyright: Людмила Остапенко, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120112505529
Свидетельство о публикации №120112505529
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