The autumn leaves fall like memories, Twirling down in a dance of grace, A tapestry of gold and crimson, Blanketing the earth’s embrace.

The wind howls in playful jest, Scattering whispers of old rhymes, Nature’s lullaby, bittersweet, Marking the passage of times.

In the chill of the fading sun, Life holds on, prepared to rest, As winter waits with frosty fingers, A quiet promise in nature’s chest.

• Julian Tuwim