High Summer blooms with wild abandon,
Just as you and I once did.
Blazes all around in open
Colors wherein nothing’s hid.
Watch and see the buzzing life
That creeps and flies around her head,
In hard Winter, all these lives will
Disappear, some hid, some dead.
Look a little harder, though,
And see the next year’s life in seed.
Beauty’s equal in provision
Of new life and present need.