The last night, late fall, I's intoxicated by the pretty colored leaves.
But the today-morn. I can see again that the fallen leaves're rolling.
In the mist, on the tree at the park, a dove chirps and grieves
The last night, late fall, I's intoxicated by the pretty colored leaves.
Easily the life wilts. Then your achievements! Why are you so boasting?
The world'll be covered equally white, when it'll be snowing.
The last night, late fall, I's intoxicated by the pretty colored leaves.
But the today-morn. I can see again that the fallen leaves're rolling.
(Triolet. Nov.,10th 2023, Kinsley Lee)
- Author: Kinsley Lee (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: November 12th, 2023 09:09
- Category: Short story
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Leticiaalves_br
Comments2
A beautiful painting in melancholy colors !
Dear Friend! Hi! thank you for your kind comments.
Beautiful imagery.
Hi! Thomas. Thank you for your kind comments. Have a nice day!
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