Tangerine Trail of Fall…

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mandarin sun
hanging lusciously on azure,
on a citrus morning
pours honeyed photons
on earth’s variegated platter,

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while on a serpentine trail
covered in orange molts
of denuded terrestrial giants,
breeze indulges in
aromatic feast of
cinnamon rolls.

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the once verdant leafage
has been gilded in gold,
by whimsical brush of nature
as on this dust trail
they fallen from lofty perches
of garrulous flutter~

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pantomime as petals
withered from
embrace of a gulmohur–
reviving those days
of early summer scented
in breath of mango blossoms.

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every orange leaf
forming part of fall’s carnival,
whispers soft secrets
in nutmeg syllables
into ears of indifferent breeze–

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about lazy moon
who plays truant at midnight
to fall asleep on branches of oak,
the fireflies who
call themselves stars of earth,
about cricket’s weird strains
which it compared to the cuckoo’s,
of the nightingale’s love
for the hursinghar.

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as I walked one autumn morn
treading softly over dewy leaves,
along this orange trail,
leaves withered and burnished,
apparently sang lullabies
to me just as in spring time–
but somehow the voice
seemed but an echo of yesterday…

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