There's a chill in the October air.
The sun is setting earlier,
And is not as eager to rise,
In the morning.
Maybe his bones hurt more,
The older he gets.
Just like mine do.
And I am nowhere near,
As old as he.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Juan- I like this poem a lot. It is very deep. Thanks for sharing! -Claudia