Azaleas in purples and pinks
And strange reds, grass and clover shag,
Lil’ white and purple forbs, me thinks,
Are enjoying their time to brag.

Dead chlorophyll leaves are bleeding
In the green yard haphazardly;
The fat squirrels themselves are treating,
Since still now occasionally

Stray pecans continue falling
When the wind roars; they eat haply
In between limbs that had nothing
Better to do than fall gaily,

‘Sif they were in love with any
Passing wind. To me ’tis beauty,
And the dogwood blossoms agree.
It’s undisturbed, as it should be.