Fall
Frost
on the grass
fog on the lake
yellow trees at the roadside
When did this fall break?
Insects
are gone
not a humming sound
Apples are fallen
on the garden ground
Birds
are singing
their last summer song
searching for new buds
on branches all day long
Sky is
high and blue
Air is crisp and clear
Memories of sun and warmth
yet in mind so near.
10/5/98
©1998 Inger Aftonljus