Don't smile like this
Otherwise I will fall in love
How I will reach to you
I am not a dove

There's beauty in the fall
as it stumbles into winter
to hear the jackdaw call
and the trees that slowly splinter
the crispness of leaves
under foot under trees
paints a mottled picture
acorns hang like earrings
such a seasonal fixture
a squirrel darts
from branch to branch
he looks at me
then continues his dance
Yes there's beauty in the fall
as it stumbles into winter
how I feel so small
beneath the trees that splinter

lately, more and more people have started to look at me
and suddenly i remembered what i hate so much about the world

it has eyes.