Late Autumn Morning

The sunlight is still bright but lesser Than those in the summer dawns The temperature still rises but weaker And slower like it was haunted The coldness was sent by the wind with the rustling sound Green has still remained on the leaves of the grass though but on their tips yellow and dryness has already hung Frost looked cold and shining off-screen white Birds sang irresistibly but felt a bit numb while the wind plumed harp tune high Time is as spacious as earth or sky But the dreams cannot be exactly kept Wild geese start to go their southern home By making an array fly Someone like me in their middle ages Will face the desolate circumstances As the late autumn morning said