Autumn

Autumn
Those autumnal leaves
dried and crumpled
just as the strewn feathers
of the aviary, the hunter’s
missile aimed at, with the
Mercurial vigour,
like the age’s wrinkles
and dropping skin on this
haberdashery,
sitting on the grass,
my expectation incredibly
failed , it is like the
reigning fantasy at
the helm of my imagination:
there were no autumnal
leaves, the beams of
sun piercing my burnt
skin and cheering up
my drooping mood,
the melody of the chirping
birds by mound on the grass,
there is no autumn :
man’s values are
topsy turvey , Nature is
in cue of Man.