Benighted Dominance

What a difference a day can make
in one fell swoop plunging into
the doldrums of mourning summer
though the calendar, not the weather
assures summer has not yet departed.
We shiver now in a premature 
assault of wind, cold and rain, with
the advent of frost breathing its
icy threat upon our beloved gardens,
vibrant and peaked with colour and
form, flowers shrinking their tender
petals in fear of imminent collapse.
Our house interior is in a state
of chilled discomfort as we bemoan
impulsive nature hurtling so heedlessly
into mischief, leapfrogging mercilessly
from summer to fall, then winter in
one arced swoop, merely because
as mistress of all she surveys, she
tends to succumb to the appeal of
totalitarian rule made effortless,
her logic doubtless because she can.