under the autumn sun, the wind's breath
speaks of colder days to come.
their hues are a splendid red and gold,
some flickering to the grass below
chasing each other just like lambs at play
as white clouds drift on this October day.
A horse is indifferent to the view
and a squirrel scurries up a branch
but I am transfixed by the sight,
each leaf with its own distinctive lines.
The tree appears beautiful to me
standing like an adonis in his prime
yet the leaves will be gone by wintertime.