Marzapan

In autumn's gentle sigh, leaves cascade,

A tapestry of gold and red, nature's parade.

The air grows crisp, with whispers of change,

As life retreats, in colors so strange.

Amidst the house of autumn's hue,

A season's tale unfolds, both old and new,

Where leaves descend in a graceful dance,

In nature's fleeting, bittersweet romance.

Whispers of the wind brush past me,

Kicking up the fiery leaves,

As the trees begin to make a sea-

of dead leaves, creating a painting that weaves-