Autumn Poem by Duy Bui

The wind hurried by,
an autumn package
of esoteric tales and secrets,
of loss and love.
The golden body fostering green memories,
amber wings of desire and their harvested wisdom.
All that I could see wandered toward eternity,
the second-hand aiming at time,
tapping here and over
far beneath where squirrels go to hide
from the quick passing wind.

Some have told me that love
chooses its own course,
and time will tell you where your soul is,
though time darts through a puzzle
with immeasurable pieces of graves and cradles,
thus when its semblance knocked,
I found my shadows on all corners,
searching for where the sun would rise.
“East” a voice shouted.
“And is east where I am facing? ” I asked.
Then silence dipped down
from the sky and the voice was gone.

As the wind was hurrying by
imbued with fervent red veins,
gliding away upon leaves of time,
I stood steadily in its course.
For a moment I was among the leaves
and eternity was in between
whistling the autumn tune,
“It doesn’t matter where the sun rises
or fades away, what it sees will stay”.