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I´m looking up to the sky.
The leaves, they are falling,
and clouds are passing by.
I remember the summer,
when the sun was shining all day,
but now it is autumn
and the sky, it is grey.
M.S.
When all the birds have gone away
the days are getting shorter,
the leaves are falling, the sky is grey
the sun shines coldly on autumn day
the fields are drowned in water.
C.P.
In Between
Summer leaves
As autumn starts
The golden leaves
Fall into our hearts
Forest walk
Without a word
Silent talk
A singing bird
Dazzling lightning
Rolling thunders
Nature fighting
Storm shows wonders
Hazes creeping
Bushes hinder
Branches weeping
Wind brings winter
S.L.
Rain
knocks
at
the
window
flying out of it would mean
to smell the dreamy atmosphere
of wet picturesqueness,
comparable to warm grass running
between the toes.
But I´m resting here
in a melancholic feeling of womby warmth
mixed with the coldness of human being,
I got used to.
A squirrel is collecting food –
accepting its role in the play
of this neverending, self-twisting circle. –
I hope it is allowed to collect some colours, too.
Colours for the white darkness of winter,
it and I are waiting for –
in happy autumn daze.
The cynical comments of someone at the next table
remind me
I´m still sitting here in the chestnut tree café
where I was pulled inside
out.
S.W.
