Rise Again

Strangled by frost’s fists,

your cells surrender.

Cytoplasm spills from pores

hard-pressed by mercury’s plunge.

It is time.

Time to beat a hasty retreat,

seal off summer’s silhouette

and lay up treasures

for seasons to come.

Capitulation, not abandonment;

acquiescence, not succumbing.

After your pupal pause,

 Sun caresses your dead skin;

you will

rise again.