Indian Summer

She passes into your avenue

like an indian summer

a warm wind following 

the first killing frost

which seems both a blessing

and a lost opportunity

as you look around the devastation

of your garden. 

Here the tomatoes and last green-leafed lettuce

have been blasted by the promise of ice

and the basil slumps 

down over the decadent earth

everywhere that you nourished life

the winter has swung in 

and blighted your dreams of sunlight

and plenty.

Yet here is a girl 

with a dream

that she is trailing all over the neighborhood.