Gold autumn went away. The sketch

Gold autumn went away, and its last warmth had gone.
The wind cut short the songs of small wild birds.
It sat at sunset fire close a lake alone
and sadly blew about branches of birches.

And their golden threads were slowly rocking then.
They threw down their leaves. The ones flew high
like magic weightless butterflies, which had been sat
by the transparent air. And they shined…

They shined with tiny raindrops on gold plates of wings.
It was the bright breath-taking endless show.
The lake was catching them with the transparent grid
of water mirror surface. Wind blew cold.

The magic tiny butterflies were sliding on the face
of the black silent lake. They slid and whirled,
performing unforgettable the last sad dance.
They couldn’t fly any more with watered wings…

                by Thea Ariss               
                28.10.2024

P.S.: It is about nature as you asked.