Four leaves on a tree;
Just a gust of wind will do;
Then the tree's bare.

Small purple flowers
Peep out from the sea of brown.
They make their last stand.

Sky and earth are still;
Something's bound to start falling.
Is it rain or snow?

Last leaf on a branch:
Will not be there tomorrow.
Just a puff of wind.

The grizzled black dog
Looks up and gives me a glance.
We are silent friends.

Lost in the brown leaves
My small silver bullet pen.
It's gone forever.