Autumn

The wind caresses my skin.

Leaves are falling,

The air is crisp.

The past is unsearchable.

The road is darkening.

The final rays of the sun,

are desperately clinging to my squinting eyes.

The future is unsearchable.

I'm not reachable.

No dependency,

Calm atmosphere.

The present is unsearchable.

The clucking of the chickens,

is playing with my eardrums.

It's autumn.

Photo credit: Nara Ghazaryan