Close by the garden wall one butterfly
Flutters half-heartedly into the blue
Now fading from its depth of summer hue
As autumn, duly coming, brings its sly
Replacements of white nights and balmy breeze,
Trips with new steps into the seasons' dance,
Which sometimes may dissemble, look like chance,
Though purposefully set to strip the trees,
Iconically marking what must be
As long as Earth and Sun keep company.
No comments:
Post a Comment