September Thoughts — a poem

Cold feet in thick socks

Cold nose and chill fingers

Mid-September coolness seeps

Despite sweaters and jackets and hats.

More leaves are gathering in uneven sweeps,

Yellow and orange and red scattered roadside fragments 

While the clouds lower grey brows close to the rooftops 

And the heavy dew silvers almost into frost.

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And now, a poem: September Haze

September haze 

Warm and sweet with the scent of gentle rot

Thick air like soup blurring the moon

Pockets of yellow on shields of green

Heavy dewfall soaking the earth

Last breaths of summer slipping through the chill

A season on the fence, teetering uncertainly

Faltering

Unwilling to go

Unable to stay.