The song of our fall

No comments


Dried leaves knocking down the air heart branches

chestnuts striking pavements of our walk

a mourning breathe of too old branches

and music of their death

the shivering of lake

this reddish light of fall

all these surrounding sounds

the past recall.

red leaves


I wish I could’ve written down that song

that healed all thousand moments

of craving for your soul.

My hand sings still

but still alone

this fall.



From Parentheses – work in progress

Parentheses cover

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.