Gazing out upon the world
that is my kingdom
Leaves turning;
colors- springing up like
little fires here, there
A riot of color
a forest of gemstones
Ruby, garnet, topaz
mingle with the
emerald backdrop
of evergreens
A beautiful Indian Summer day-
or is it Native American or
Indigenous People's Summer?
Damn Columbus! Why did he
have to be so dead-wrong?
The mist steals in to
shroud the spectacle
Falling asleep for
just a moment- then waking
to find the world has gone
brown and grey and
October's fires have
given over to
November rain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem