September Falls

Squirrels are gathering; nuts to bury Eagerly digging, for warm earth is soft Painted, a sky in hues that are many This golden glister is scattered aloft Even autumnal, as thin sun rides low Men strut in T-shirts, ignoring the chill Beauties all bare what they dare… one last show Enjoying the looks laid upon them still Ripened and ready are these orchard fruits Falling for fear of remaining unpicked An autumn frost cometh, a winter hint Leaving some lying like leaves to be kicked Lovers on sheepskin, a stove that burns wood Soft music playing: September is good