9.06.2010

thoughts on september



sweet melancholy.

what was.

what might have been.

fading beauty.




"The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze."

- John Updike, September










 

"September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn. The cricket chirps in the noontide, making the most of what remains of his brief life. The bumblebee is busy among the clover blossoms of the aftermath, and their shrill and dreamy hum hold the outdoor world above the voices of the song birds, now silent or departed."


                                  - September Days By Rowland E. Robinson, Vermont.














i love september...with all its contradictions!

1 comment:

trash talk said...

Beautiful post.
Debbie

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