Well, It's half past September
Well, it's half-past September.
Autumn and Fall are having their annual jurisdictional dispute
As to boundaries and length of contract.
The leaves are either burnt, flaming, a-flame,
Blushing, scarlet, rosy, rusty, reddish, or foxy.
The pumpkins are waiting for Charlie Brown and Linus to show,
The Witches Coven Convention will convene at month’s end.
The flowers are retreating, slowly, each hoping to linger
Into one more warming sunrise.
A few diligent honey bees wait to greet them.
School buses hunt for unwary children.
Books bid them “come, join me,
Let us travel past the crusted cover into the realm of the imagination”.
A thin crust of ice will soon silence the pond.
September, caught between the aura of Autumn and the fire of Fall,
Smiles as its gentle breezes call the tune.
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