Outside my window leaves tumble to the ground,
slowly rolling without the slightest sound,
a blue grey sky just waiting overhead,
autumn leaves gently hurry summer to bed;
here in this moment, where seasons collide,
how many leaves have taken this ride,
soaring, diving, and floating on the breeze,
revealing the weathered skin of naked trees;
stripped of the colorful plummage they wear,
limbs dangling like tangled and knotty hair,
bare and exposed awaiting the storm,
all around, swirling leaves perform;
such a sight of awe and wonder,
a seasonal ritual blown asunder,
as certain as the stars, their evening light,
dancing leaves assure the world is just right;
running and shuffling, pushing through leaves,
all of the splendor that nature achieves,
how soft and pleasing to the eye,
when autumn leaves fly...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem