Fall is coming,
And so our garden falls asleeping.
As the loss of a passing pet,
A passing friend,
I feel it likewise grave
When delicata feels elegiac.
Such nurture it gave!
Such beauty in growth!
Each passing week new life matured.
Blossoms emerge.
What simple gifts waited for me,
As I foraged for the manna?
Now to soil this garden defers.