'Spring At The Morning' Poem by Lindemberg Pereira da Silva

'Whenever one drifted petal leaves the tree,
though white of bloom as it had been before,
And proudly waitful of fecundity -
One little loveliness can be no more..'
(A dream lies dead - Dorothy Parker)



The first lights of dawn start to appear
While the dark starts to be dissiminated.
From the trees - the first dead leaves
Start to fall, swept by the breeze
strong but soft.

The first songs of the birds
Mingle with the sweet noise of the leaves.
Doves walk around, feed themselves
with pieces of food spreaded on the ground.

A lonely old man, with a pale look
Calmly walks with his dog.
It's earlier at the morning
A lovely morning in the spring.