Sunday, September 1, 2013


You come, bowed low with burnished glow
Of golden-rod and orchards bent
Whereon you seal upon your reel
The echoes of a summer spent

The purple plume of milkweed bloom
Prepares to spill its silk-spun worth
Like words and deeds, gossamer seeds
Of soundless free-fall to the earth

The dapper sheen of verdant green
Succumbs to amber-gilded sweep
Before the fire of fall’s attire
And woodlands where leaf-ballads sleep

September’s ploy, sorrow and joy
A rustic, roguish pantomime
Of dust’s display; harvest, decay
Like love and longing intertwined

Moments implore, a tug-of-war
Of holding on and letting go
As August slips from fingertips
Into summer’s sweet afterglow

©Janet Martin

 Summer is not officially over for another three weeks but somehow it always feels over as soon as it’s September and another school-year begins.

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!