Blooming at their time of choice the
Winter looms, soon the blanket white
Last of all, the chrysanthemum
Autumnal herald of warm hues the
Last bouquets for the scissors
Sweet garden, I hope the freezes hesitate
The Indian summer lingers a
While, holding the fragrant moment
©️Sylphide poem 2020
(This poem is a first attempt at a golden shovel form of the Yosa Buson haiku making up the last words of the lines)
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