The end of summer / On a park bench

The leaves will fall once more
so I try to enjoy the sunlight
but eyelids become heavy
at the end of bird’s flight.

My limbs have grown that weak
that I can only sit in this place
with the sight of playing children;
carefree in summer’s embrace.

Winter’s silence will come and fade –
I can tell that from the past,
but now this end of summer
might just be my last.

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