Autumn has not yet come.

Yet the sun shines

On dry leaves.

 

 

I find in my mind

That Autumn has come

And my leaves

Have Turned to grey.

 

 

But I am still here

In this fading year

Though my May

Has long since run away.

 

We go through birth.

Then, like leaves

We feed the earth.

 

 

But before we fall

We enjoy the bird’s call.

Though none can outrun

The setting sun.