Headed Off at the Pass

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

changes.

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.