If you, too, find this season
sometimes tinged
with melancholy,
I send you a bouquet
picked from my garden
at summers end.
Sunlight turned
to structure,
beauty in the seeds
of tomorrow.
If you, too, find this season
sometimes tinged
with melancholy,
I send you a bouquet
picked from my garden
at summers end.
Sunlight turned
to structure,
beauty in the seeds
of tomorrow.
Stepping out
of the seasonal rush,
drivers stop
by the estuary edge.
–
Together we pause,
momentarily,
to catch the light
as it fades.