Already shriveled, these marigolds
that line the fence. Something soothing
about the way the flowers keep their color,
though the leaves are brown and dried.
From a distance, they are vibrant.
From a distance, you might forget
that the garden will soon be filled with snow.
So much is ignored in the name of beauty.
Here, here is the season with your name on it,
your name the scent of gold. You find yourself
longing to be more like a lily, dropping everything,
not even pretending to survive the cold.