Banking on Futures

            when days go home early
            shrugging

            when sun dims to bleached ivory
            cooling

            when listless leaves falter
            shattering

            when honeysuckle tendrils droop
            curling

            when sod chills the knees
            sinking

            I know

this bronze beauty
is a fraud

all will soon be lost
under death’s white mask

            in defiance
            I hide bulbs

            banking on their ugly faces
            blooming

I know
the market will turn

(Published in Poetry While You Wait, 2010)