September Afternoon
by Theodora Goss

I cannot explain
the glory of this world. There are no words
adequate, no adjectives that would suffice —
beauty, splendor, wonder — none sufficient to make you
stop and rejoice, to throw up your hands in prayer
and gratitude. No, I cannot explain. All I can do
is show you, under gray skies,
the last of the summer’s roses bowed down with rain.

(The image is Gathering Roses by Daniel Ridgway Knight.)