It’s gonna be a cold one tonight

First hard frost of the year.

Maybe the whitetail will be up and moving into the morning sun

Renewed by the chill

But green leaves and soft petals will fall.

I sat in my garden through last light

Fawning and farewelling

Saying my sorrys and thanks.

Chance doesn’t have a memory

But I do

I know what work was done

And when I slept in.

I remember

The excitement of spring and seed sowing

Like it’s tomorrow

Because it is.

I remember

The not caring and foot dragging of late July

The neglect and blind eye of August

The bittersweet frenzy of September.

I resign to October

And hope that relief and regret can live together

While I watch this whole thing wilt

And remember how well I’m fed despite myself.