In the golden grasp of a fleeting sun,
Autumn leaves begin their gentle flight,
Whirling softly as the day is done,
Painting the earth in hues of delight.

Crimson and amber in the crisp air play,
Whispering secrets of seasons past,
Rustling dreams of a distant day,
In their brief beauty, they cannot last.

The wind carries tales of yesteryears,
As leaves descend in a wistful sway,
A symphony of colors, a dance of tears,
In the quiet fade of a fading day.

Yet in their fall, there’s a gentle grace,
A reminder of life’s fleeting art,
For every leaf in its final embrace,
Leaves a tender mark upon the heart.