In summer, you were stunned
by green things blooming, bronzed
by heat released from every inch
of sky, carried across blue thresholds
by random winds. Oh, how you felt
this is the season of Forever!
'Come hither, ' urged bright morning
and you complied without a care.
'Don't move, ' cautioned the sun
and you sat still another hour.
'Open your arms, ' cried the winds
and you embraced their sudden heat.
September comes, and Nature falls
silent. She has the work of harvest
to perform. You're on your own now
to map the sun, to touch a green leaf
turning yellow, to hold a golden moment
before it fades into winter light.
The days grow shorter, the nights
colder. Oh, Misery! you think.
And yet... Those sumac bushes,
abundant along the river bank,
half-green, half-red, seem poised
in time, as if Autumn will never say-
'Farewell'
Daniel Brick
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/september-comes/
