Dear Autumn,

The birth of your sister, Summer has made me miss you
Even more than I did a few months earlier.
And just between you and me,
You were always my favourite sister, Autumn.
You are sort of half way between your other sisters,
Which is what I like about you, Autumn.
You, yourself are your own person.
You aren't as annoying as beloved Summer tends to be,
Nor are you as harsh and bitter as Winter.
You carry about you a certain warmth,
That you can see, but not quite feel.
When I think of you, Autumn
I not only think of how, in someways you are like a second Spring,
Where every falling leaf is a flower,
But I think of the sun and how it is there,
But you can't quite touch it,
It can't quite reach you.
It is hidden behind the clouds.
Perhaps that's what I like the most about you, Autumn.
The way you come, and then you are gone
Before I get the chance to stop, and truly look around.
I guess that's what makes you so special.