Autumn woke up. He reddened nine leaves in his favorite valley and put a field of flowers to sleep on the mountainside.
Autumn found Summer at the fairy tree. He burnt the leaves gold on the branches and in her hair.
Then Autumn went to sleep again.
None approached Summer while she wore autumn colors. None interested Summer after Autumn’s morning quickie.
Summer laid in a clover patch outside Autumn’s underworld entrance. She crept closer in the moonlight and sniffed at his door, but Autumn slept soundly within.
The fact was, Autumn woke up for a night a couple weeks ago, colored a few leaves, planted a few seeds, and went back to bed. Autumn’s work came first in his life.
Summer didn’t know how to handle being No. 2.