The Path Through Autumn Poem by Daniel Burns

The woods are draped in amber light,
As autumn pulls the day from night.
The air, so crisp, it bites the skin,
And whispers softly where we've been.

The leaves, like flames, descend in grace,
Their amber glow, a fleeting trace.
They spiral down to find the earth,
A final dance before their dearth.

The wind, a voice that bends the trees,
Still hums a tune through dying leaves.
Each step I take along this path
Reminds me of the season's wrath.

Yet in this quiet, there's a peace—
A pause, where time and thought may cease.
The road is narrow, but it winds,
Through autumn's death, new life it finds.

So onward through the fading gold,
A story that the trees have told:
The end of one, the start of more—
The endless rhythm of the shore.