I look to the cosmos

just poking through the June soil

anticipate pink

and coming warmth.

Poking into the June soil

I plant Nigella seeds

and hope that coming warmth

will break them open.

I plant Nigella seeds

that I had saved

by breaking open

the geometric pods.

What I had saved

in small white bowls.

While geometric pods

cluttered the grass.

***

In a white bowl

of deep September frost

I cover the grass

staring up at dying delphiniums

and deep September pockets

of a harvest moon.

I ask nearby Delphinus

for guidance.

A harvest moon

shines on pearly everlasting

and guides 

the season home.

***

Pearly everlasting

dry in a vase, like ghosts

of seasons gone

along with their reliable rhythm.

Dry in a vase, like ghosts

of things I barely remember.

Seasons following a reliable rhythm.

Now a dizzying pantoum. 

Some things I barely remember,

like how to keep going.

Dizzy now,

I look to the cosmos.