Bedraggled scarecrows cry in the wind
While Blackbirds caw to the trees
As if, voices from the once green wood
While the dead leaves blow free;
Rustles of burnished remnants dance
In visions the gold dying leaf
A pause and wait but never late
As Fall carries in her grief;
Relentless winds of change court September
Descending now-a lifetime of Fall
Season's change make no excuses
For September has, indeed, come to call;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you again for your very kind words...am glad you liked it. Theo