I must be on a roll this weekend, after having some "me" time. I looked out of the window tonight, and jotted this down (needs polishing) :
AFTER THE RAIN
The wind has tossed the rose petals
So they fall like confetti.
The roses shrug their shoulders,
Stare rain-sullen at the ground.
Foxgloves race to the tips of their stems,
Compressing summer like a coil.
