Summer Sleeps

I chased sunset today. But I was late - or, rather, it keeps starting its flight earlier. So I only caught its footprints fading across the sky.

Over two hours later, I got home. While I was gone, sitting on a bench under pink cloud-fingers, this happened:

Summer has chosen rest,

and not even Autumn in all her splendour

can persuade him to linger.

He is too weary now

to dance,

to stay up late,

to start adventures -

even to make love.

Autumn touches him,

and he looks up, warming today,

then rolls back down to sleep.

On the day she can no longer awaken him,

Autumn will clothe herself

in fire

for her lonely dance,

then drop her robes,

let the wind carry them away,

lay herself down next to Summer,

and cry herself to sleep.