Frost-bitten flowers smitten first
are mourned by those who pass them by.
Such beauty reigned but weeks ago.
I wish they didn't have to die.
Begonias and snapdragons droop,
then shrivel, fall and crudely lie
in clumps upon now sterile soil.
I wish they didn't have to die.
Green leaves turn crimson, yellow, gold,
before they fall from far up high
and flutter into wayward heaps.
I wish they didn't have to die.
I grieve each year when Fall arrives
when I must bid lush growth goodbye.
My heart will ache until it's Spring.
I wish they didn't have to die.
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