OCTOBER FROST

Last night’s frost

has hung the pepper plants

with black and cost

the zinnias all their color.

Beside the gate

among dry summer weeds

half-dead spiders wait

for colder weather.

Time to gather

marigold heads,

to tie together

ice-tight lengths of twine.

Tubers underground

may linger, but almost all

the green has browned,

stands tangled as balled twine.

Stiff hose, wire fence

must be rolled up, stakes

pulled and scraped. Now diligence

is done. One waits for winter.

The rush to use the harvest

is passed; the daily watch

over change, relieved. Unrest

among the rows falls silent.

The peace that passed

when spring began descends

upon the garden. The massed

life gone, the cold ground mends.