Late fall, the leaves are falling by the winds
The early sun sets and it’s beautiful evening.
The winds are blowing from the city wynds
In the night on the road, the leaves are groaning.
Here and there, the people are gathering
In the pub, they are talking until the late night.
For a long time they couldn’t be blathering
‘Cause of the Corona. The streetlamps are bright.
The neon signs make the leaves on the trees
Be redder, and the fall foliage are waving
To the passers-by. And they gaze at ease.
The fall is too short even the men’s craving.
I pulled out the brandy and made on the rocks
Drinking, so the leaves come on the cheek.
And wall clock hit the twelve but their talks
Are not finish, the left leaves are sleek.
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Author:
Kinsley Lee (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 20th, 2023 17:48
- Comment from author about the poem: After work, at fall evening, they visit the pub. I try to picture the ritual life of the common people in Seoul.
- Category: Short story
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments2
This is a ritual in the little college town I live in too. Fun to read your observations and poetry.
Hi! Thank you for your comments. It's the ritual life in the outside of Seoul, too. Thank you so much. Wish your good health. BR. Kinsley
Good write K.
Hi! Orchidee. Thank you for your kind comments and message. Have nice days! BR. Kinsley
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