Throwing Summer Away
The weather has finally cooled and I could go outside and hack all of summer out of the garden and carry it bucket by bucket and armful by armful and cram it rustling and snapping, flaking dried shards of death, into the garbage.
I trashed what summer killed.
I trashed what summer pulled from the earth with its luxuriant fire and light.
Then I stood back, with summer behind me peeking over my shoulder, and we admired what neither of us would destroy...
...the seeds of next summer.