September / Edward Bliss Reed

September

Crickets are making
    The merriest din,
All the fields waking
    With shrill violin.

Now all the swallows
    Debate when to go;
In the valleys and hollows
    The mists are like snow.

Dahlia are glowing
    In purple and red
Where once were growing
    Pale roses instead.

Piled up leaves smoulder,
    All hazy the noon,
Nights have grown colder,
    The frost will some soon.

Early lamps burning,
    So soon the night falls,
Leaves, crimson turning,
    Make bright the stone walls.

Summer recalling
    At turn of the year,
Fruit will be falling,
    September is here.

~~
Edward Bliss Read (1872-1940)
from Sea Moods, and other poems, 1917

[Poem is in the public domain]

Ulisse Albiati, "Sight VI". CC BY 3.0, Wikimedia Commons.