Autumn gives way to winter in this short poem, and the speaker catches the moment of change. The opening line pictures bare trees drawn like dark sketches against a heavy, threatening sky. Then the mood flickers: a sudden burst of sunlight sets the fallen leaves glowing, so the frosted, soggy brown and black of the ground is lit up with gold. It's a brief flash of beauty in an otherwise bleak scene.
The second stanza moves from what the speaker sees to what the body feels. "We shiver" brings in other people, so the cold is something shared, and the tingling fingers and toes work almost like a message. They "tell us" winter has come, and the poem ends on the idea of retreating indoors. The mood is wintry and a little sombre, but not despairing. There's something cosy in that last line, where home means shelter and safety. The short, clipped phrases and the simple rhymes give the poem a steady, matter-of-fact tone, as if winter's arrival is something to accept rather than fight.