Are the leaves waving

Or butterflies that crash to the ground,

A whirlwind flight of brown,

Ochre and sienna earth colors,

Sometimes they flutter in my stomach too,

Warm with crazy curly thoughts

Or in my head they wobble wildly

Do they crawl around like predatory caterpillars.

It happens that they descend gracefully,

Carrot or benign transformation

In fairytale mushrooms

Like a 'poetically' completed whole

Or sometimes fall apart and even scorch.

© Rudi J P. Lejaeghere