AUTUMN
S. Bhavani
When winter moves away, green turns
yellow and then to brown.
The season is changed and autumn is
given the crown.
Fields, farms and lands are all gone.
As this new season is born.
No shadows of bushy trees,
As the branches are leaves free.
The mild sun rays fall on your face.
Its nice to tread on the leaves and
walk in that place.
As the leaves get crushed under my
feet
I gaze at the outstretched lands that
never meet.
No trace of sand, no trace of land.
I gaze at the yellow and brown
stretch as I stand.
The curled grave branches
droop low
And beneath the soil the sprouts wait to grow.