Foto: Jill Wellington – Pixabay
you did it again.
You displayed your notorious
yearly festival of colors.
Fiery shades are burning
the last memories of Summer away.
Forgotten pumpkins with their evil faces
Melting, now toys for squirrels.
The scarecrow is dead.
Lying like a drunk in the mud,
his limbs broken,
the straw brain scattered and moist.
As I enter the woods
The cottony sky buffers
The sounds of my steps.
The woods are deaf.
Millions of three soldier, bleeding defeated
On the ground, don’t fight back as I step, they indent.
Don’t cry Fall, the new generation will replace them.
I know, I know, you just love to cry.
As I leave your gallery missing it already,
I approach the highway and it hurts me,
To see the metal monsters rumble by
The traffic light changes.
O autorici: Lidija Stupar rođena je u Zagrebu. Učila je i još uvijek uči od cijelog svijeta. Živjela je u Americi i Kini, a trenutno živi U Hrvatskoj. Voli slikati i pisati i to radi kada nije lijena 😉