A hint of frost


My sweet September dawn, resist

the growing, dewy morning glow,

retard the sun with gentle mist,

begin the hours of this day slow.

Allow the birds a brief delay,

a pause, before they take to wing.

My sweet September dawn, betray

the coming winter’s hurried sting.

Our growing season seemed too quick;

our harvest work is not yet done;

our berries have not ripened thick:

slow, slow the rising autumn sun.

Create a day that seems less brief.

Release one leaf at break of day,

at noon release another leaf;

one from my trees, one far away.