September-ish

Wow, it feels September-ish, Victoria and I agreed 

as we waited for her bus on the first back-to-school quite-coolish morning!

Morning is hushed, plush port of mist

The sedums blush, like school girls kissed

And old, new sweaters feel de-lish

In weather so September-ish

From doorways mothers wipe their tears

Where summer’s ‘hurray’ disappears

As back-to-school worlds fill Time’s dish

And hearts with art, September-ish

Noon tolls yon big old, golden bell

While vibrato of crickets swell

Where fell and field splay mellow-ish

With fronds, bronzed and September-ish

Bold blooms in muted mantle bow

Surrendered to Time's When and How

 Futile to become rebel-ish

Summer succumbs September-ish

Jars gleam with streams of garnered grace

Daydreamers linger long to trace

The place of boughs still bent with wish

And fruit, sweet and September-ish

Cornrows, like green-clad infantry

March stalk-still across hill and lea  

As woolly clouds droop, splash-a-splish

On worlds unfurled, September-ish

© Janet Martin