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Cosmos bordering the glades
bend from a hefty bloom,
the hydrangea sheds its purple hue,
a pinwheel of days spins autumn shades to winter,
and the places we inhabit begin to wear a shrouded chill
In a rented room with vases full of lilies,
a lover brings you to Nice, brings you to your knees,
and the gardens are still awash with late blushes of dahlias,
all that lulls you into believing that the skies will not turn cinder,
that winter will not descend into discontent,
and this man in the rented room of your life will always unlock the door,
opening an ocean of Octobers, bringing you to your knees.
