Autumn is a bushwhacker,
holed up in the middle of
the pass where Summer
rides through the canyon.
He sits, smoking a cigar, rifle in hand,
waiting for Summer to ride
through and end her journey
when it seems like it only started.
The Earth starts to tilt
on its axis and the northern
hemisphere starts to drift away
from the Sun.
Wrangled in the cosmic
rodeo by incredible gravitational
cowboys, spinning the Earth toward
a new ranch.
Autumn is primed, ready, able and
willing to take his shot and take
back the pass and hold Summer ransom
until Winter pays.
Spring will negotiate with Winter
for Summer’s release, but Autumn
will be back, like every year, waiting
to ambush innocent Summer again.
The pass is quiet as Summer approaches,
Autumn squints down the barrel of his
rifle. A hawk screams overhead. The dry
wind blows dust around.
Science says it’s Earth’s orbital path that
causes the change in the seasons, the perfectly
choreographed tilt that causes the temperature
We know better. Autumn is a bandit and of
low character, he wants pumpkin spices and
the lady-folk to cover up their bareness,
he wants the ground noisy with crunching leaves.
Summer looks up at the canyon walls, but
oblivious to the trap in wait.
The shot cracks and Summer jumps from
her horse .
Autumn yips and yells at another capture,
he runs down the canyon walls and quickly
ties Summer up in thick rope. He sits across
from her on the canyon floor, lights another cigar.
“I got you again,” says Autumn.
“I know,” sighs Summer.
“You want to play cards,” asks Autumn.
“I guess so,” shrugs Summer.