(Sacramento, California)

We still have roses.
we still have pale asters,
and the neighbors’ leaping
cosmos and white azaleas

roses in fall yellow and orange
are blooming as if they think
it’s April. At this latitude in late
October, some of us think it’s spring,

never a bad thing, especially after
a little bit of rain and cool have
given us a taste of what’s on its way.
My hollyhocks still haven’t gotten

the message, growing tall, sporting
frilly tutu blossoms and fresh
leaves the size of saucers, showing
no intention of giving up.

I imagine them stunned into
withering when frost comes,
when I will go outside and
croon as I clip the dead bits,

You’ll be back, you self-seeders,
have a nice sleep now, see you soon,
you morning glories, you glorious
poppies.