The first hard frost is the real end, and that could be weeks.
But all the flowering plants prepare their final bursts.
Many are done already, a few will hang on until their petals freeze.
The chimley rose saved the best for last.
Since staked up, a mowing near fatality.
No more blooms to come, but we’re going out grand.
Will even a frost take down the lemony mint from its summer-long peak?
But the gatekeeper of the herb garden does not care about seasons.
A hunk of cloudy quartz shares some faces with other entities
but marks the gatepost without concern for any of us.
Nor rain nor sleet nor hail — never mind, it’s quite all right.
I’ll just stand here and watch y’all wilt and wither one more time.