That magical hour of dawn,

when all across the dewy lawn

a ray of sun so bright

sets autumn leaves alight

They’re glowing as they’re falling,

thus heeding nature’s calling

to die, they’re copper, blackish blood,

their meaning finally understood

They roll and tumble: amber tears,

spring time dreams and silent fears

of trees that are a-dying

and yet nature’s kind, this golden rain

will come to live and bloom again;

it’s rebirth I am a-spying.