Such is the case: <br />The first flowers of autumn, <br />the last of summer, <br />are asters, golden rod, and queen anne’s lace. <br /> <br />There is a changing of seasons <br />in your eyes, and all the reasons <br />are vague and disturbing— <br />I can see it in your face. <br /> <br />There’s a trace of a more rugged <br />blossom there— <br />a bloom that can bear <br />the coming chilly nights. <br /> <br />Permit me to stay by you, <br />for this disconcerting equinox <br />of mood. After the zinnias and phlox <br />are wilted, we’ll plant together <br />next years daffodils and hyacinths.<br /><br />Sonny Rainshine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weathering-2/
