The last pale flowers of summer Sit there—fragile and wavering, Gathered around a single bough, While the wind murmurs softly to them, Consoling breaths wrapped in silk That tell of another sunrise approaching. From the dark of night, they will rise, To the dancing warmth of daylight again— Only to wither again, softly, Returning their pure energy to the earth, For the sake of another bloom coming soon.

— “Late Summer”

• James Wright