Cerulean Autumn

This is a poem that I wrote last year, and I came across it today.
I really like this one, which is odd, because I usually hate all I write.
But it was a nice little dose of summertime, because I still remember
What I saw that made me write this poem, and it was beautiful.
Anyway, here it is; Cerulean Autumn

After days of gray skies
Wind, rain, hail, snow
Arrives a day of fairness
The red and gold of the leaves
In contrast with the cerulean,
Not only of the sky
But of a little girl's dress
As she stands, arms outstretched
As a ballerina, or a princess
Descending stairs at court

The woman beside her,
Little more than a child herself
Lifts her up, watches with caring eyes
Walks similarly alonside,
Arms also outstretched
As the little girl balances on the ledge,
Now a trapeze artist

This little girl in blue
The beauty of her innocence
Now greater than that of the sky
Or the fairness of the weather
While she enjoys, as I do,
This gorgeous indian summer