I love the way
The tattered clouds
Go wind across the sky
And summer goes
And leave me
With a tear in my eye
I'm taking out my winter clothes
My garden knows what's wrong
The petals of my favorite rose
Be in the shadows dark and long
Though every year
It's very clear
I should be used
To carrying on
But I can be found in the garden
Singing this song
When the last
Rose of summer is gone