Even though the cloudy sky subdued them,
the colors of the meadow caught my eye.
How subtly, I thought, the seasons change,
the Black-Eyed-Susans giving way to goldenrod,
the daisies bowing to the Queen Anne’s lace.
Already the green of the trees is beginning
to move into shades of olive here and there.
So I let this flower-strew field paint itself
into my heart, a portrait of summer
at its turning point, a reminder to cherish
each moment’s beauty, those past
and those that the moment hints will come,
and most of all, and always, this one,
before my eyes right now.