The summer has slipped by. Last night the moon
Was full once more, after its wax and wane.
The brightest and the chilliest hours will soon
Blur in our memories to sun and rain.
Roses and friendships flourished - petals of both
In color and in sweetness of perfume
Astonished us with pleasure in their growth:
Though flowers have died, affection keeps its bloom.
Now, at the end of often-glorious days,
Bracing for winter harshness to come,
I glance about the garden and give praise
For all that lives. Look. Our geranium
That lost her early, lavish flowering
Has found, these last two weeks, a second spring.