Summer's Last Shrug

The final nasturtium:
summer's last shrug,
tiny but perfect,
in miniature jug.
If I could – and not crush you –
I'd give you a hug.

Your brothers and sisters
have all had their share
of sweet summer sunshine
and damp autumn air.
Their lives are now over,
the flower-bed's bare.

Till your old siblings' seeds
spring next year's delight,
halfway through November,
I cherish the sight
of bright yellow petals
like butterflies' flight.

© Celia Warren 2015