the willows whisper,

the leaves crisp on

the lonely pathways

and quiet roads

my hands subdue to

the cold soft gale

and the life start

dying, lifeless and pale,

why do people, people

seem to wonder and love

a time where the life

force drains out of the world

the creatures go to sleep

the chill begins to creep

and the oak begins to

sleep after the child

begins to weep.

It's autumn now