On the forest path in the park, a refreshing
Breeze stirs strangely the heart.
Tinged with color, on the bough, they riskily
Sway and dance, the part
Of the left leaves. Last night, rain tapped
On the tips and tops of trees,
They piled atop the grassy grove,
This morning, fluttering in the breeze.
As autumn arrives, summer departs,
And migrants return anew,
As winter fades, spring brightens, and flowers
Bloom once more in dew.
Seasons, never forgotten, endlessly
And reliably repeat like a chain.
When will the frosted head become
To darken, the hair again?
(Apr., 20th, 2024, Kinsley Lee)