Shaded in magenta
your peonies are almost gone.
The sun gets down low
covering the fields in shade,
smoothing over each day
I spent in childhood.
I hate to see your tools rusting
from the rain, scattered around
like my dolly and her clothes.
The weeds have taken over the garden,
spreading a season of silence.
Summer has come such a long way
its emerald eyes nearly open,
bringing memories I pretend to guard.
Carrie-Teresa Maison is currently a graduate student in the English program at George Mason University, and she has enjoyed poetry since the age of twelve. She currently lives with my husband in Clifton, Virginia. Her poems have appeared in several publications, including: The Fairfield Review, Poetry Depth Quarterly, and The George Mason Review.