Winds march over boulevards
As winding as his wanderings
Leafs leave branches barren
To make the grey skies seen
Clouds cry bitter raindrops
Soaking sour solitude
The puddles promise solace
To drown in to his waist
Torso left to nature’s whims
And storms to wear him out
Car alarms laugh in his face
Howling mockeries his way
Loudly, thunders call him
To give in to the fogs and mist
Life was never as redundant
As in autumn’s heady lists