Yes , the same trees
dance to the , morning breeze.
dripping dew shines
on green grass, bright green leaves.

Chirping of the birds
no longer audible
a distant whisper
trickles down in the ears.

Now the lonely streets
occupied by fitness freaks
No butterflies, no bees
only unoccupied hearts,  all for lease.

But

Those mornings I remember
during spring summer autumn and winter.
Leaves slightly danced, to a slightly brighter sun.
Its pleasant warmth embraced us both

Time never dared to touch us
Butter flies adorned your hair
radiating smile and joy even in despair
then life seemed easy
Now
it nothing but busy.

And now when I walk alone
silent smile trickles down
from my eyes to lips
in the memory of
Those mornings