Modern poetry about autumn is very short.

Modern short poems about autumn are as follows:

Fan Wenyi:

Autumn rain is in the first-class cold autumn pool, in the withered autumn willow, on the timid autumn branches, on a yellow but not yellow autumn leaf. Listen to his kiss and whisper Sanqiu's affair and love story. Finally, gently brush him in the autumn halo of autumn water and turn around and follow the autumn flow. Whispering of autumn rain, Sanqiu's love affair and the plot of love poems also fell into the autumn halo of autumn eyes, whirling and following the autumn flow.

Appreciate:

Autumn always plays a sad role in nature, and its "thinness" has long been a unique image that has been chewed and recalled by generations.

Fan Wener:

1, I want to run under the blue sky and tell you that rain has just fallen from the ruins of the old house. I want to hug the earth and tell my son that you have rough ears of rice brought by the wind in your hometown, and you are just busy. Light a cigarette with your deep myopia eyes and bring the flu, and burn a city that spreads like lead. I want to tell you quietly that my corner is very happy.

I want to tell you stubbornly that there is autumn in the field. And as soon as you turn around after watching it, you don't want to hear me talk about autumn. Because you don't want to hear about the arrival of autumn, such as land and wooden houses.

Appreciation: Autumn, on a withered page of paper, in a square Chinese character, makes the wisps of sadness, melancholy, missing and concern blurred.

Fan Wensan:

Listening to the songs of autumn, the charming melody cuts through the melancholy of summer, and the brisk tone dyes green into gold. Hard-working cultivators, holding hoes, indulge in the music of harvest. Autumn is singing, a year's harvest and endless dreams. In the song, deep hope was sown.

Appreciate:

Autumn is beautiful, but her beauty is indifferent. The soft sunshine shines on people, and the cool autumn wind is refreshing. In the blue sky, a flock of geese are flying south, and the leading geese croak, as if to say, "It's cold, we're going to fly south for the winter."