Garden’s End

When the vines have given up their last

Fruits of earth are memories past

Brown and brittle are stem and leaf

Their green long stolen by autumn’s thief

When twig and weed are all that remain

To show the end of summer’s reign

A frost the sun can no longer defend

And this is surely garden’s end.



Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Garden’s End

  1. I’m initially saddened by a final harvest of any of my vegetables. But I know that since I live in Southern California, there’s something for that next season to take over. Nice poem.

    • Thank you. I’m in Southern Illinois, so we have a decent growing season but it’s never as long as I would like! However, my kitchen window is full of live herbs in the winter. 🙂

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