New Form

I can see the poplar trees
That sway’d as I once strode,
And the wind that call’d
Upon the leaves
To crunch on silent road;

And I can feel the autumn breeze
Calling and crawling on my back
As the delicate touch gift’d
A shiver on my spine
As I walk’d on lonesome track;

And I can hear the silent call
Of a long heard breathy sigh
While the trees slowly breath’d
And the wind slowly blow’d
As my path’s end came nigh.

There’s a sesne of the mysterious about the poem. I like it, especially first 2 lines of last verse.