SEPTEMBER

Well I'm not in London. Thanks to a connectivity problem, Peter wasn't able to let anyone know in time that he wouldn't be able to make it, and as a result, I was not able to replace him.

I walked to work in the fresh air, feeling very thankful that I wasn't on the 6:50am train to Paddington. The trees rippled in the autumnal breeze and a rolling fog hung over the fields by the A4. I'm really quite fortunate, I think.

I wrote this poem today. It's about September and change and stuff.

So I've called it: September.


September

Where the green light tumbles
Through the dappled summer shade
Where the cool wind shivers through the trees
Where the leaves sing merry
Unaware that they must fade
When the autumn whispers softly on the breeze

Where the blue sky glistens
With the pallid summer sun
And the clouds hang pinned upon the sky
Where the old man listens
To the falling leaves begun
While the younger men are left to wonder why

Where the starlight scatters
Through the purple pink and blue
Where the cold moon rises on the sea
Where the sunlight shatters
On the golden drops of dew
Where September falls and autumn comes to be