bandit

as autumn robs the trees of its leaves

and the sun stops to shine

even though summer left its breeze

every thread of wool

becomes a thinned-out line

 

like robbers and thieves

the summer is gone

and the brown and the grey

like heartbroken bandits

they spawn

 

and the sweet gust of wind

that swept the sand so gently

disappeared without a track

as the harshness of the sea

swallowed the summer whole

 

shorter days and longer nights

the stars fading in the sky

in clouds milky broken white

 

branches breaking

under the weight of the crows

a carpet, of a pallet in brown

eventually becomes my fall