after pink camellias
have dropped their pale skirts
and silvery wallflowers
seed into wreckage.
I reel bare honeysuckle,
unwind sweet pea debris
from lush summer's
now-invisible trellis,
haul down leafless vines
like a derelict schooner's
ghostly sail rigging.
Burning marigold coals
wink out and die
within frost's icy ashes.
