A normal morning beings,
The last summer sunlight
Crossing the trees behind me, warming my back.
The small spots of water on top
of the grass are reflected
like the sparkly dresses of homecoming,
Making a wet morning.
I listen the noise of cars,
I listen to the whistle of the rarest birds,
the song of the smallest crickets.
I listen to footsteps
On top of the leaves –
“crack” and “crush,” like broken hearts.
At your feet, a new fashion comes,
Brown,
Yellow,
Red,
The colors of the fall
Like chocolate
Like lemon
Like plum
Like ice cream dresses the summer shops,
autumn dresses colorful floors.
A normal morning beings, but now
fall is awake.