
Autumn’s Digestif
Hostas are deflated balloons
their flowers droop on stick stems
like streamers come undone.
Lilac’s thinning yellow leaves
are a desolate platter of crumbs.
Border of begonias is brown
and soggy as used napkins.
Dead blossoms on dahlias, geraniums
litter the fading canopy
the crumpled wrap and faded ribbon
of summer’s gifts.
The hung-over garden sleeps.
Even the orchestra of bees
has gone to bed.
But look, there in the corner
a liqueur of blossoming Mums
the kitchen staff
must have brought out late
though summer’s party is over
and the guests have all gone home.
Your imagery is well-realized, Violet. I like the unexpectedness of likening a border of begonias to soggy brown napkins and hostas to deflated balloons. That missing orchestra of bees is a nice touch, too. Lovely all around.
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Thank you so much, Maureen! I always feel sorry for chrysanthemums, blooming just as we’re doing the garden clean-up
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