Unstoppable are the
Sandstorms of swirling browns and grays
Weaving shades unknown
Into tapestries unraveling slowly
Before the speculating eyes
Of critics
And slowly
The leaves leave their trees
Turn brown and orange
Fall and crack under feet
That do not mind
Fond of the crackling sound
And aware
That soon it will be replaced
By snow
If not
There are always carpets
And death they go near.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poetic imagination, Tarbia. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks