While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest,
and cold and heat,
and summer and winter,
and day and night shall not cease.
Summer's over—no blooms
Scent the air as they did on
Yet, like a gift, each flower leaves behind
A little wooden parcel of seeds
Some to be nibbled by hungry birds
Some to fall and produce
Another summer avalanche
Of color and soft ruffled blooms.