The potted peace lilies are small but bloom brightly

And might just last through the fall, he thinks.

Now, these ferns would have multiplied and spread too far

Had he not thinned them last fall, arresting their advance instead.

And the magenta azalea grip holds tight still,

Though their petals will fall by the fortnight.

As for the aged gardener, he’s slower to clip this spring, slower to dig,

Slower to bend and to kneel, concerned he might slip.

Yet he just might last through the fall, he thinks.