A breath of air is enough to push the pale
Dry dead leaves till the end of sight.
Trees scream in row as pain sparks
Through the stem to the roots when

The leaves are slapped by pacing wall of wind.
Their cry approaches from the brink of the street
And passes by till the end quivering everything in its way.
Never giving in under the power of wind

Praising it for it will walk down the dusty grey lane
And bestow water and air to them to breathe.
And opening new doors of life
A new era of green aura in the air.

Golden sunlight filtering through the silver
Droplets and penetrating the shiny leaves
To embrace the tiny grass.
While the flowers are too busy playing with colors.

Te older trunk prepares for.
The wind plans it’s new invasion.