A falling leaf

A falling leaf,

Barely touching the ground

As we inhale the autumn for the first time,

Enjoying its shine and glimmer,

Taking pride in its hot colours,

It is a game of the nature,

A symbol of fragile independence.

It falls down like my mood

When you don't call me back.

A leaf that shines like a gilded painting,

A statue made of sunlight,

A meaningful letter in an old book,

A note as light as the air

In a song of this special autumn,

Its roaring colours,

A pulsation of orange and magenta

And a rapid silence

Of the sundown by a pond.