The tip of the trees at the late autumn lake, are tinged redly.
The black swans quietly floating, silently the bubbles which're arising,
And rustling leaves, wind making sounds, they're playing mutually,
And people have left, even as the sun sets, their nests, the birds are forgetting.
(2nd, Apr.,2023 Kinsley)
- Author: Kinsley Lee (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 9th, 2023 19:34
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this poem for the painting which was painted by In-Sook, Park and named \\\'The Autumn Lake.\\\'
- Category: Short story
- Views: 5
Comments1
Good write K.
Hi! Orchidee
Thank you for your visiting on my poem and comments. Have a nice day!
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