I remembered spring yesterday.
Today the fall ground is hard,
My scooter bounces my butt around driving through the garden paths,
Hard from no rain and too much erosion,
Brown tomato stalks and okra dying as they stand and try to grow in the short days.
I sit on my garden bench, remembering as spring warmed it with greening lilies and budding flowers.
Also, I remembered summer with her overblown self,
Blowzy with petticoats and dresses,
Overdressed for hot days
My bench hurting with heat.
Now I see my bench, shaded by only the bottle tree,
No longer hidden by green flowering bushes or swaying grasses, Stark and bare and hard.
Am I being fed fall leaf by dying leaf?