Winter's Prose

In autumn's glow, the world begins to rest  
And amber leaves descend in weathered flight  
The summer's heat now finds a gentler quest  
As chilly winds chase the lingering light  
 
The trees, donning their robes of ember gold  
Stand sentinel against the waning sun  
Their branches reach with tales of seasons old  
While shadows stretch as days are nearly done  
 
The air is crisp, a breath of frost and pine  
As harvests yield their bounty to the earth  
The twilight hours in muted hues align  
And nightfall's calm descends with tranquil mirth  
 
In autumn’s arms, we find a soft repose  
A fleeting peace before the winter's prose