Late Season Communique

By Paul Armstrong

Winter won everything last night. The frost

Captured each hollow place; ice moved ahead,

Sealing off puddles. Tall plants, having lost

A final skirmish, stand inert and dead.

No longer fragrant, showing less and less

The wild, sharp colors of their bloomful days,

Roses retreat to petaled scentlessness,

While lost deciduous leaves flee separate ways.

These grim maneuvers, these strategic feints

Reveal once more the final phase begun;

Once more a propaganda artist paints

Bright, temporary beauty. Winter won

Everything last night. Now a dull breeze

Twists blasted leaves—old summer memories.