The tall flowers, all at once.
A rose leaning languorously on the wire.
Everything is full out.
The day lilies go
on
and on
in an almost silly abundance.
Hydrangea row
shows no signs of slacking off
in any of the varieties.
On and on.
The timid little flowers in the rail pot have filled out.
The under story is at maximum,
from the ground reaching up among the low branches of the trees,
all the little weeds, all the middle weeds, all the giant weeds.
And this, of course, is the first sign of the end of summer
the fullness before the finish.