Last breath
Rain fell on autumn leaves,
Partly dead, part breathed,
One of them talked with me.
Spoke of the sadness,
Of the birds' homelessness,
Of summer memories,
Followed by spring's,
As well as hatching, chicks.
I felt like camera
With lenses as my eyes
And brain was dark room,
Heart and mind were prisms.
Kept changing the angle
With the tilt, location.
I zoomed in, out, focused,
Perspectives were endless…
End was for gone, absent,
Toy of winds, out of sight!
Saw myself among the
Displaced immigrants,
Heading for Fox's den!
Could be fed to vultures,
Or cheated by jackals!
Autumn, though colorful
Is the worst, dreadful!
Autumn has bag of gifts,
If written, the listing,
Starts, ends, with "Dying! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem