So where shall I begin?

I sit at my window this morning  where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes. Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have  no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign. Last night I dreamt that we were dear to each other. But wake up to find that we were strangers.                                                      -  vagrant in the winter