Is it the first night of the autumn? Or
the last night of the the summer?
Under the few, pale stars scattered
on the sky,
the tree branches still pregnant with leaves
rustle in the sharp breeze;
the summer leaves and the
shiver-carrying herald of the long
ice-edged months when the leaves will lay
frosty and glimmer
in the light of bright stars,
above and distant and unreachable,
like the beloved dead
in their abandoned graves.
17.08.2020
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