September Comes

In summer, you were stunned by green things blooming, bronzed by heat released from every inch of sky, carried across blue thresholds by random winds. Oh, how you felt this is the season of Forever! 'Come hither, ' urged bright morning and you complied without a care. 'Don't move, ' cautioned the sun and you sat still another hour. 'Open your arms, ' cried the winds and you embraced their sudden heat. September comes, and Nature falls silent. She has the work of harvest to perform. You're on your own now to map the sun, to touch a green leaf turning yellow, to hold a golden moment before it fades into winter light. The days grow shorter, the nights colder. Oh, Misery! you think. And yet... Those sumac bushes, abundant along the river bank, half-green, half-red, seem poised in time, as if Autumn will never say- 'Farewell'