In the golden hush of autumn’s breath,
Leaves fall like whispers, soft and light,
The earth adorned in hues of death,
Yet in this cycle, there’s no fright.

The trees stand bare, their secrets told,
Each branch a memory of summer’s past,
The air grows crisp, the days grow cold,
But beauty in this change will last.

Beneath the amber canopy, I walk,
Through paths of rustling, brittle gold,
Nature’s voice, in silence, talks,
Of stories in each leaf that folds.

The twilight sky, a painter’s dream,
With shades of fire and soft embrace,
Autumn whispers, like a gentle stream,
A season’s kiss, a tender grace.