The owner of the broom

And now no one knows
 Why is he sighing for so long?
 Spring has passed, it smelled of strawberries,
 And autumn? Autumn just languished.
 His broom rakes leaves,
 Faster, faster... Winter will melt,
 Then again it smells of strawberries,
 Watermelon, melon... Autumn is withering away.
 Once he put a broom,
 And left the post for the day.
 At first it started to rain, of course,
 Some even enjoy it.
 In the rain, the frost then died,
 And sparkled with an ice crust.
 Frozen wires and branches
 Flowers from the neighbor's balcony.
 Wires were torn everywhere
 The trees are in trouble
 Flowers shimmered in the ice
 But here they are, no, they didn't.
 The rain was surprised: "What's the trouble?
 I came here in autumn
 Didn't break any boundaries
 And now, the flower is now withered!  "
 Wires groan under the crust,
 The water froze in a moment of rain,
 Trees cry and crack
 They want to return back to the heat.
 Phew, he's finally back
 Probably heard branches groan,
 He took a broom, and the wind died down,
 Even the rain stopped for a moment.
 The broom is chalk, the ice has melted,
 And time moved forward.
 I hear the broom scraping
 And so I sleep until the morning,
 And that means trouble by the side,
 While sweeping with his broom.
 Who is he?  And how should I know?!
 Until he stops sweeping.
 Why is he sighing so sadly
 Nobody knows about this.