Autumn’s Veil

By MissT

The air grows crisp, the daylight wanes,
golden fire runs through the veins
of every tree that sheds its pride,
laying secrets where roots abide.

A veil of smoke drapes hill and stream,
the earth exhales its restless dream.
Branches claw at a fading sky,
whispering truths as shadows lie.

Leaves drift down in a spectral dance,
a fleeting waltz, a ghostly chance.
They kiss the earth, then fade away,
soft echoes of a summer’s play.

The river hums a mournful tune,
darkened glass beneath the moon.
Fog drifts low with spectral grace,
time grows thin in this haunted place.

For endings bloom in colours deep,
a tapestry the heart will keep.
Yet autumn’s breath is sharp, arcane,
it names the living, claims the slain.

And every fall reminds the soul,
to let things go, to still feel whole.
Through death and dark eternity,
the fire of life still clings to me.