• Air as crisp as an apple
    Wakens my senses
    On my lone meandering

    I survey the rich landscape:
    Lovebirds departing,
    Grass greener over the hedge

    Lola, my cherry blossom,
    Must you seek him out?
    Forget his dark illusions!

    I am constant as the trees -
    Soft petals to snow -
    My roots are in solid ground

    At the end of my journey
    I see a bright star
    Alone in autumn’s nightlife