Only five days in but already September starts to spill its spicy hues...
September; marmalade-hued morn
And cinnamon-bronze noon
And sleepy slopes of soybean, corn
And hopes of harvest soon
September; silk of spider’s art
And apple-dappled trees
And tender frames that fill the heart
With fresh-squeezed memories
September; sumac tinged with red
Wild-flowers singed with gold
Earth’s gates unhinged where summer bled
Its hours through our hold
September; garden’s farewell tour
Of gourd and tater heaps
The days are shorter than they were
The cricket never sleeps
September; tug of caught-between
Not fall, yet summer spent
A musky-dusky euphony
Have laughter, half lament
September; doorway to a world
Of pumpkin pie and tart
And gossamer of bud unfurled
Into a work of heart
September; Summer's embers glow
On almost-autumn's eaves
Futile to try to quell the flow
That spins the clock of leaves
Mother Earth kissed by Father Time
Startled by hints of sage
September tastes a bit like lime
A lot like middle-age
© Janet Martin
Your photo collage is gorgeous!! I love all the ways in which you described September... and, I can relate to the crickets never sleeping. They've made their way into our (finished) basement!
ReplyDeleteHi Megan, and thank-you.Love the September flavors beginning to 'bloom' h-m-m...cricket in the house is a totally different song than the outdoor distant tweet-tweet! Hope you can release him to the wild soon:)
DeleteLovely - so many great lines - ‘cinnamon bronze noon’ and ‘tug of caught between’ 😊
ReplyDeletethank-you Trish!
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