Leaves dance in the crisp, cool air,
A symphony of gold and red,
Whispering secrets of time and change,
As they softly fall to their bed.

The sun dips low, a gentle glow,
Painting skies in amber hues,
Shadows stretch, and the world slows,
Wrapped in autumn’s tender muse.

The scent of earth, rich and deep,
Mingle with the woodsmoke’s rise,
Nature’s quilt, a promise to keep,
Underneath the vast, open skies.

In this fleeting, golden hour,
We find solace in the decay,
A reminder of life’s power,
In autumn’s gentle, fleeting sway.