The spring retreats, its promise spent
on tulip kiss and poplar musk.
The summer's greening rays relent
when day meets dark at purpling dusk.
Twin tumbleweeds roll past and part
the dirt to sketch in chicken tracks,
so soon obscured: convectional art
mandalas till the winds
relax.

Come autumn, combines comb the fields
to harvest gold canola oil
for toast before November yields
its cold. Like whitened coffee, soil
beneath integument snow extols
the blood and bone of remnant souls.