The weather is good

(According to some).

In the summer wood

Leaves long dead

Brush my greying head.

 

Autumn will come

And the heat cease.

Yet leaves fall

And I recall

Autumn is yet to come.

 

In my childhood

I collected conkers and acorns

From leaf-strewn lawns

 

Today there is little breeze

And the leaves

Fall from trees

Thirsting for drink

 

 

And I hope for rain.

It will come,

But what has been done

Can not be undone