The autumn leaves rest on the oak tree,
shivering ever so slightly near the bees,
the winds move rapidly like trains at eve,
as hawks scattered around the oak tree.
With nothing but eggs in their tiny domes,
as the autumn leaves spread like wildfire,
in vast numbers roaming the green plains,
as they stumbled upon wheat fields in vain.
The autumn leaves gaze at the sunflowers,
with dry roots on their wilted brown hues,
in spite of their depressing and sad news,
they went for a haunt so they can snooze.