Autumn arrives, an unstoppable force. He grasps summer firmly by her supple limbs, and bends her to his will. The gold of her sun, he steals for the amber of his leaves.
The coolness from her soothing waters, he takes to chill his biting air.
But summer does not resist autumn, she succumbs quietly, gracefully. She longs to see him thrive. Desperate to see him paint the skies violently, to rip the leaves from the shivering branches. She loves to see send Earth's creatures into their long sleep.
There are moments, in the depths of autumn's grasp, where he thinks back to the weeks where he and summer were briefly entwined. He remembers the warmth, the last moments of life.
Remembers the soft kiss of her temperate winds, which fleetingly flavoured the September air with change.
Autumn treks through October, imposing, formidable, preparing the cooling earth for winters violent grasp. He thinks on summer.
Steps through the leaves he stole from her, that now lay scattered on the dying floor.
Is she happy where she is now? In that world between worlds where his arrival sent her. Is she laying in soft repose, eyes closed in a gentle dream, waiting for her time upon the earth again?
She's earned her rest, she did warm the world so tenderly. She did tame the sun and coax its ray's to the grass so deftly.
She had created the most beautiful sunsets for lovers and friends to marvel at. Let her sleep.
Autumn greets winter with weary eyes, tired from his efforts to rid the world of summer's velvet hold.
Winter thanks him with a handshake like death, and autumn breathes a sigh of desperate relief. He retires to his own slumber.
He will dream of next year, when he will greet summer again. Perhaps this time he will be gentle, perhaps he will let her shine for a few days more.
He submits to hibernation with the ghost of summer's earthy sent luring him into a peaceful dream.
He will awaken to the sight of another wondrous world she has created. She crafts it for him to destroy.