"The Season has Gone "

 

"The Season has Gone "

Greg Budig 2020

The season has ended

as ghosts of frost 

have come to rest. 

Mornings have 

become brittle as the 

sun strains to warm 

the October dawn. 

The garden begins 

to slouch.

Springs anticipation 

is long past gone. 

The renewal of turning 

the soil is merely a 

hazy recollection. 

Everyday there was 

newness to the garden. 

Cucumbers and tomatoes 

stretched towards the sun. 

The harvest filled your 

pantry shelves with 

dill pickles, salsa and beans. 

Tangy tomatoes sweetened 

by the sun hung heavy 

on thick green vines. 

Cucumbers sliced, sitting 

in the fridge with onions,

sugar, vinegar and cream. 

It was tended and 

watered and weeded 

and trimmed. 

You would look to the 

sky in anticipation of rain. 

So full of life! With 

the flavors and smells. 

Basil, thyme,

cilantro and dill. 

Gone are the blossoms

and the hovering bees.

Shriveled skeletons 

of summer's great glory. 

Drooping and falling 

on weather worn cages. 

The trellis sits naked 

with yellowing dried vines. 

The season has gone. 

The End