This Autumn

This autumn has not wanted to be my friend She did not call me to attend her party and celebrations were very much, even very much of warming and little light for me. All my beautiful flowers on my balcony have faded. But the flight of many birds is so disturbing, And red fires of leaves blaze around. The pain will be dissolved in bad weather, And someone will play under my window a solo song of guitar which is crying. When the evening lights arrive They will spread the stars generously to a balcony, to the street, into an old garden. The drunken wind will break leaves from many trees, and a falling of leaves will begin in the city.