автор: Girasol

Rumbling sounds of falling leaves
I am cuddled underneath them.
I watch the world
But it does no see me.
I feel footsteps But they do not hear me.

Leaves pour over to disguise me,
Caress my skin all over,
Touch me, hug me, drown me
But I breathe easier and freely.

Piles of fallen leaves surround me.
I am indulged in autumn colors,
I burn in red but brown calms me.
I rise in yellow but orange grounds me.

Befallen I should be and sinful
Surrendering to warmth of color
But I dare to lie hidden
In the arms of fallen leaves as cover.