Summer trees shiver and yawn
they got tickets to hibernation.

An invisible brush paints over blue,
a heavy and quiet grey.

This is 12 of autumn, not Friday or September
a day printed in time,
a lasting painting of 22.

Happy birthday to you.

You’re the main character of our world,
today, created for you.

12 of autumn is born
from the stardust of the Universe
and has pierced the Earth,
as the arrow of a hero.

Happy birthday to you.