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)