
Quick sounds.
Echoes of chattering tongues.
A rustic temple.
A bad spirit.
And the willow trees
recalling the glory days.
Time to put on
my autumn clothes.
And journey to a place
without memory of a scent.

Quick sounds.
Echoes of chattering tongues.
A rustic temple.
A bad spirit.
And the willow trees
recalling the glory days.
Time to put on
my autumn clothes.
And journey to a place
without memory of a scent.