Transformation

A garden, abandoned and wild –

liberated from man's designs –

basks in each summer day.

Then soon arrives November's chill –

and bitter winds and evening frost

mean winter's on the way.

The goldenrod – its treasure spent

in wild and wanton revelries –

retires in shades of buff.

The aster drops its purple fringe –

its yellow center detonates

into a soft, beige puff.

The milkweed's blushing, perfumed blooms

give way to tasseled seeds that sail

above a pale tableau.

Autumnal hues once warm and strong,

fade slowly from the cooling scene,

soon to be blanched by snow.

November 2020

(from the book Longing For The Light by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter

Winter Garden

 In a mind's haze, numbed by age

she stumbles through the house

at night

And finds her door

And opens it

And passes through

To frosted garden

there within

the moonlit view.

There's solace here –

familiar sights that ease her fear.

She sees the birdbath

but all is ice ...

And no bird will come to bathe or drink

And she is lost and cannot think

of what she needs or what she wants.

And when she's found in frozen pose

Upon her favorite garden chair

I know that it is no mistake

that something led her there.

December 2016

(From the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter