When my eyes search for life
in the first fallen leaves of autumn;
as it is blowing in the cool breeze,
indulging in the lap of nature
and gliding over the surface of the dusty road;
flying here to there as it is enjoying it's present.
Then it's slowly drifting away from my glazed eyes;
and etched It's glory in my my memory...
What if I fall?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem