The leaves are turning yellow
A chill lies in the air
It won’t be very long now
For winter to appear
We think about our gardens
Tear out those worn out plants
Pick the last of our veggies
As they no longer take a stance
We wait now for the holidays
As time continues to move on
A New Year is creeping toward us
No, it won’t be very long!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem