Cold Intruder

Well, Jack, you've done it once again;
my dahlias,now darkened, limply droop.
The birdbath sports a skin of flimsy ice;
over perennials, cringing, glum, I stoop.

Summer came back, deceptive couple of days,
and I foolishly thought you'd skipped my lawn,
but you found your way through morning haze,
sneaked in and nipped my flowers just at dawn.

Although it was a touch, a cruel one,
the oncoming season can't recoup;
no matter how fervent is the sun,
I'll have to cut the plants or let them droop.

Though you're ushered in by colored trees,
you so thoughtlessly ignore the cost;
a quiet night, grudgingly, with little breeze,
welcomes: you've come again, Jack Frost.