It takes but a night of rain
to wash away weeks and months.
The remainder of the season,
days of thought and reason.
Please wait, she said.
Her colour had changed, more
than the blush on her cheeks.
I’m not ready.
It’s time, autumn replied, as much
warmth in his voice
as intention.
Will you be gentle?
Summer shone, still possessing
the familiar beauty that was her gift.
I will try, he said.
I have been waiting so long
for this moment.



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