The corn fit for human consumption
Is now in our freezers or cans.
Mountaintop Mary’s horses
Are happily munching the culls.
Our poor dog who was bred for
Romping on snow-covered mountains
Is recently looking as limp as
Our zucchini and yellow squash.
Our garden food looks awful,
But our flowers are fabulous.
Sunflowers’ bright yellow heads nod
As we crawl through the cukes.
The four o’clocks open themselves
Just in time for our foraging.
The bright faces of our flowers
Keep us from complete despair.
We moved to the mountains expecting
That there would always be cool breezes;
But, we are happy for air conditioning,
Even with living in the trees.
While we do debate the merits of trying
To outwit the whims of nature,
For sunflower bouquets alone
We may grow a garden again.