An Autumn Sunday

A Sunday afternoon, an Autumn day
The wind blows, untamed and cold
Leaves take flight, a garden ballet
Spinning and twirling, many carried away


The rain comes and goes, fleeting visits
Falling on rooftops, dancing on lawns
Yet now and then, the sun peeks through
Casting brightness in the grey hue


The sky, a painting of changing lights
Moments of warmth, moments of cold
And in this ballet of wind, sun and rain
Nature sings its own refrain.