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.