172
Autumn leaves
Of Summer memories
A weepy frown
Of comity remedies
Paradise was, but is no more
Golden rubbish falls
On the dark forest floor
Like the beauty of sun
Melting in waters
Uniting blue, silver & gold into one
Faded green clings to the branches alas
The corporeal bruised, a culture of fashion
& history now past
Winter rest, time heals all wounds
Feel safe in the thoughts
Spring will be here soon
Much Love Much Life