your voice beckons me now
to my backyard, in Canada
where each autumn
I compose a poem

the leaves of yore since forgotten
trampled by winds crushing speed
up into the air leaves are blown
high above the trees
where beyond ,
they could never have reached,
ere there had been no autumn…

the colours manifests on my mind’s wire
as I see myriads of them
my drooping eyes admire

the scent of corns still pervades
what wind can ever invade …
yet your autumn is not different than mine
side by side we reside

as many dawns we have seen together,
maybe as many splendid sunrises
but the beauty of the colourful autumn trees
is anyone's surmise
how so nature is rich
can any human be?

as a matter of surprise …
Autumns are my love too
wow,
how we all wish they came
again and again
to help us imagine newer lives
alas...
not in vain…