Outside My Window Xiii - Poem by Frank Avon
Summer is a-flourishing
just as summer is a-finishing.
It's September outside
The goldfinch have departed,
the golden cosmos has bloomed itself out.
Still there's a rash of color
a-blowing in the wind:
zinnias, marigolds, impatiens,
one giant hibiscus, still insistent
the blue of asters reminiscent
of bachelor's buttons earlier
and green, green, green,
the wisteria tendrils a-stretching,
the black elephant's ear (really bronze)
leaning weightily toward the black petunias -
in its energy.
Just beyond the pane
a branch of our climbing rose,
Joseph's Coat of Many Colors,
has shot out at its apex
twelve tiny buds,
at its finish, something summery
about to spring.
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