Old Gardener's Wish

Contest entry for Poetry's Prism

Old Gardener's Wish

From my window,
I stand and watch
As leaves fall.

Invisible winds blow,
From left to right,
Prompting the leaves
To dance the season's ball.

Alas, the grass is brown
My garden lies fallow.
The fruit is gone,
The vegetables canned.

Come next spring
I pray... to still be around
planting seed in the ground.