By Oliver Debbarma
As dry leaves fall to the ground,
loneliness set in my mind,
to reminisce about days gone by,
of warm and sun kissed days,
the joy and plentiful times.
A gentle wind bustles
through the golden meadow,
and whisper to my ear,
of old stories and broken dreams,
of ages gone by.
Far across the horizon,
the crimson sun
has set fire in the sky
with streak of plumes
and flares, as red as blood.
The smell of ripen orchards
has sweetened the air,
and the night has become
cloudless and long,
for the full moon to shine bright.
A big 'ol tree stood nearby,
sad and alone.
Once mighty now brittle.
All his glory lost
to the season of time.
And I stopped by,
in one of those nights,
after wandering long,
to ponder upon life.
As the season has changed,
so has life.