And so September
And so September
hanging there in the trees
bowed boughs heavy with seed
there in the tired leaves
that long to fall
September with its warm
honeysuckle days
its cold nights
birds gathered
in their thousands
on wires and fences and rooftops
under starter’s orders
: perhaps I too
should follow them south
September with its whispers
its intimations of mortality
and a whimpering mind
that traipses through
the city’s dusty avenues
that journeys out
into the frail suburbs
of my past in empty reflection
Dark season of silence
of enhanced fragility
of bygones gone by
all the pain and loss
and yet still the hope
the faith in new seeds sown
that no more love
will be laid to waste
John Lyons