As summer ends,
It’s beauty dying.
Autumn wakes,
Reborn.

She reaches out,
Touches all
With her auburn color
And the muted yellow of her hair.

With one slender hand,
She begs the leaves
To become a red so dark
And yellows so soft.

The leaves answer,
Gracefully shedding
Summer’s beauty
To embrace Autumn’s glory.

To the world,
It is the death,
Of all things free,
As the youth of creatures grow.

The childishness
And playfulness
Seem to vanish
Into maturity.

But the one youth
That does not grow so quickly,
Still remember Summer,
And mourn her death.

Yet even as they grieve,
They embrace Autumn
As readily
As they welcomed Summer.