John Samuel Tieman: Autumn

a withered branch
a bird looking for some rest
an autumn sunset
even the stones in the stream
seem tired of the old sun

—

still it’s strange – autumn
longing for a crisp winter
on a moonless night

—

I trust the autumn
the clarity of dying
oddly comforts me
a red leaf lands on my sleeve
it rests before moving on

—

Copyright 2015 John Samuel Tieman