Will They Make It Through

Or will I wait till nothing left below?
I gave them water, gave them time,
But the season isn't mine.
The storm keeps rolling, the sky won't clear.
I think about the things I did all year,
Turned the pots when the sun moved west, pulled the weeds,
Thought I did my best.
Nature doesn't care what I hope; it just does what it does.
Will they make it through the winter?