Trees Are Rustling In the Park
Trees are rustling in the park,
Day’s too hot as you can feel,
Evening takes the heat, it’s dark,
There are no sweethearts. The will
of the moon don’t show its face,
Solitary poplar’s shrunk,
Fallen leaf’s in silent grace,
Eagle-owl sings as drunk.
Little coldness touches the skin
And beloved doesn’t hear,
Park is naked. Autumn-mime
Dropped the mask as lonely tear.
Evening takes the heat, it’s dark,
Leaves have scattered in the dust
Trees are rustling in the park
Cruel coldness comes to us.
Copyright © Serge Lyrewing | Year Posted 2016
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