September

This month alas, was when we met Four hundred and forty two months ago A month most commonly, often wet Proactive tears for our latent sorrow There in unusual morning brightness You stood before the altar like a lamb And in resplendent sacred sweetness I heard your beauty sang of the great I AM September clouds were white that day September flowers in bloom as may September joyed like bright kites away, September love can, never, never stay But the fruit of September stains still The heart, despite the will, can remember The trees dress gusting o'er the bent hill And the heart brightly burning with love's sweet ember O mistless memory, O sweet Unfruiting dreams, friendship in shadows pines For the nectar hope's sweet breasts secrete For the prolific season's latent signs To freeze, for age gold bowl no contentment Yields, when limbs creak and bones seek shutters warm And flesh failing sap lies impotent Where the honey runs from the comb - trembling my arm