Hope Against the Cold

Hi everyone. I was walking around the Beal Gardens at State and was inspired to write a little something (good thing I had my precious writing notebook with me). It's not exactly a poem or journal entry. It's somewhere in between. You be the judge. I've titled it "Hope Against the Cold"

The bees hovered in the wilting leaves of fruit heavy plants, scouring for a sweet snack among the flowers. The bright ostentatious flowers looked off in the first chill of early fall. As strange and captivating as a bright, red male cardinal among the green foliage. He searches for a burnt brown mate, a nest called home, and hope against the cold.

Really, I think most of it sounds like just a scene in a book, but the last line sounds like a poem. Like I said, it's sort of in between. Let me know what you think.