autumn
The river can not help but slow down the pace repeatedly look back
The traffic you see is an illusion. The neon lights are an illusion
Everyone who is laughing tonight is an illusion
Only autumn is real
Autumn is such a beautiful season
The river can not help but slow down the pace repeatedly look back
Leaves golden breath, I smell
Gentle dappled sunshine, I was drying
I keep trying to hold on to this glorious time
Keep the bright wind and the warm sun
Look at the fall
Her enviable colors, colorful world
Look at the fall
Her power to move people, the appearance of fruitful
My lover left me in the reflection of autumn
And I will choose to forgive
Autumn brings me more hope than you can imagine
Not to mention a minor burn
About the Creator
John Wilson
I am a freelance writer and I hope my articles will give you pleasure
Keep reading
More stories from John Wilson and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Business of Nature
Dew drops reflected the light of the sun. The inhabitants of Whispering Woods woke up to the golden droplets of water on the leaves of the flora. The oaks particularly enjoyed the light and the maples did, too. Happiness enveloped all who lived there, even the rocks that cried out in the night delighted in the morning.
By Skyler Saunders2 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.