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I thought I saw a bindweed flower
amongst the rosemary,
a slightly pink convolvulus
between the blue-green spikes.
Puzzled at this odd relationship,
I peered more closely at the spot.
A mushroom? No, a single blushing petal
blown there by a sudden gust.
I looked back at the rosebush on the terrace -
more heart-shaped wreckage on the ground,
though other blooms remained in place, intact,
Summer must be leaving town.