Autumn flowers

Autumn flowers


Flowers withered by the march of time and season

Yet I find it very vivid to my heart and reason

Displayed in plain, on the table - a craft made

Where the wandering of my pen is inlaid


The cages from which the seeds escaped

Tiny germs, the tokens of love the bugs entrained

Smuggling pollen from males to females

And now it's the earth that entails


Fallen Into the labyrinth, 

A Work carved and split by the worms,

Passed down are your black-painted germs

Kept with hope for the spring, underneath


I contemplate your worth

Which is only for me

That your appearance serves

For it evokes the foliage, 

The blue of the sky bleached

And tainted green with freckles

Of yellow, of scarlet, of orange.

The warmest hollowness that grips

To make to stay the last summer breath.




This poem is about: 
Our world


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