The Last Rose of Summer

I watch the shadows lengthen every day
and wonder if the crispness of the morn
will make it hard to straighten up the way
I did when every eager bud was born.
The warmth and cheer of summer green and bright
emboldened me to do my best to share
my modest gifts with anyone who might
come by to stare and gulp the evening air.

But as the days grow short and leaves turn brown
I find it tougher to stand tall and proud--
and harder to gaze up than down.
Of course, surrendering is not allowed.
Besides, I’d like to linger just a while
and make another careworn person smile.