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I find this strangely beautiful and I'm not sure why. There are echoes throughout that draw me on and infuse the words with meaning beyond dictionary definition. This is poetry of the highest order.

The first few lines are particularly intriguing - I can't get the image of a rectangular island with poles at each end out of my head. Then we get to what we in Britain would call gardening and your words become Robert Frostlike, so expressive in their evocation of work with soil and plants. And so to the physical effects of your labour on the body, again brilliantly expressive.

I love your ending and wish that I had thought of the concept of "edging back into the grip of summer." The poem is completely beautiful (a necessary repetition) and nothing I can suggest would improve it. You have made it impossible for me to rate it with anything less than five stars.

My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!" .