And so September

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

 

 

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