In the cool damp of a mid ~September afternoon
The garden is using all its senses.
The scent of a thousand nameless flowers
creeps through the mist as the rain strokes the leaves.
A few hardy bees drain summer’s nectar
down to the last, elusive drop.
A garish shout of dahlias scorns the dwindling light,
flaunting themselves like blowsy matrons.
A fading sunflower turns its head,
searching for what remains of the sun.
A flock of Goldfinches chatter a path across the borders,
dipping and plundering.
Slowly the ragged tints of autumn are catching fire
among the soft pastels of a sumer that is loath to leave.
Only the seed heads keep their thoughts close, swaying smugly.
Tomorrow is their secret.