(C) R.L.K.
1.
The first few leaves
always seem to
fall the hardest.
Here, in this small
park, you watch them
tumble down, and
think: what a short
while summer is;
the thrush, the lush
grass, the roses
suddenly gone.
2.
Autumn is just this
wind, just these poor last
lost torn leaves dancing
in the wind, just this
sad old man watching
the poor last lost torn
leaves dance in the wind.
