Perhaps, fallen leaves are like a sad poem, but isn't this a kind of beauty? Shelley said, "If winter comes, can spring be far behind?" I said, "When the yellow leaves fall, the green leaves wake up!" " "Its death gave birth to the bud of life. This is not death, this is selfless dedication.
Look, some roses stand proudly in the flower bed, and some are red. Pink, very bright. In the autumn wind, it can't help but shrink back, but it is fighting against the bleak autumn wind with its own body. A gust of autumn wind blew, which looked a little shaky, but it persisted, it won, it overcame the cold autumn, and it was blooming brilliantly.
The late autumn wind planted bleak and desolate seeds in people's hearts. I don't know when it started, but the usually leafy tree in the back garden failed to escape the autumn wind, and the red leaves were blown away by the strong wind.
The faint moonlight struggled in the wind through pieces of mutilated red leaves, snuggling together, leaving a little mottled refutation and moonlight kiss. ...
The wind is still blowing hard and there is no intention of stopping. Moonlight, like a layer of frost covering camphor leaves, is swaying in the wind with cold white light, dancing silently and falling silently, leaving only fragmented memories. ...