Season's End

It's autumn, and that fact was driven home this past week with a foretaste of wintry weather. A dusting of snow, gusty winds, and icy rain swept through. Brief though it was, it was still a reminder that all things come to an end.



Season's End


I'm reluctant to take down
my leggy begonia.
Its leaves late summer green,
the blossoms scattered
like lipstick kisses.

Do I remove the basket now
and remember it wild
with flamenco blooms, or wait
for a hard frost to dance a black tango?

It seems only yesterday we chose
a closed casket
for my brother's funeral.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor