Autumn wind shakes the boughs,  
Leaves whispering just before dusk,  
Words of peace and serenity  
Easing the world into a slumber  
Quiet, tranquil, and deep.  
The rustling, the sonata;  
Mother Nature’s baton  
Slowly, gracefully, meaningfully,  
Conducting a twilight all my own.  
    
Fading sun in my eyes,  
I’m just another mind in need of rescue.  
Heart and brain cast about  
Like common trinkets,  
Emotions crafted into the strings  
Of an ethereal instrument,  
Playing note after lamenting note  
As if such artistry would fade  
To darkness with silence,  
Or fall like leaves  
In this willowy autumn wind.