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
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