The salad days of summer having come
and gone, the kiwis, seedless grapes and garden
berries you’re so fond of are no longer.
Now the house is dry. Our efforts
to humidify the air seem almost
hopeless. Careful every night to fill
the tank with water, to de-calcify
the heater coil-still we wake to find
no difference. Winter oranges
from Spain are what you always buy. Pluto
made his wife stay in until the days grew
mild-but you have gone today, to wander
out of doors. And at your bedside, scattered
citrus rinds, the cat, the scent of clementines.