September is . . .

Crisp as a ripe apple and, 
Tawny as a bronze pear.
And nature's hand
Paints the land
Golden everywhere.

September is . . .

Farms that grow 
Sweet potatoes
And cycles to resume.

Soup in the pot,
And the equinox,
Under a Pumpkin Moon.

Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
        --―Albert Camus

*********************

While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease. Genesis 8: 22

*********************

See Also: