September

September The light is angelic; People turn to shadows and shadows to people. The heat of Summer cools, and steps aside to Fall, And the trees burst into slow flame, Reminding me that everything must die, But not die sans glory. This is the time when Summer's bright exuberance dies This the time when something deep within me cries. This the time when remembrance holds sway. This the time when night conquers day. This is the time when the moon hangs lonely In a powder blue sky; This the time when the heart thinks only Of the unknown Wherefore and the Unreasoned Why September is the birth and death of all, The source of all our sorrows, The womb of our tomorrows A wine of glory and of gall - This is the time when I gather myself, When I ask myself, as I always do - Have I done my best? Have my deeds been true?