September

Mack Hall

The hot, humid air hangs heavily, old,
On unnaturally green late summer days
Afternoon clouds billow up, blues and greys,
And thunder in impatience, high and cold

But here below the earth is exhausted
From growth and green, and from sunlight and heat
It wishes for sleep beneath winter sleet
As the air is cleaned and fields are frosted

I wish for autumn, earth’s time for yawning
As it prepares for bed. The morning deer
Along a distant line of trees seem near,
Nibbling gently in the misty dawning

Perhaps they, too, sense a change in the air
And feel the days of heavy summer pass
Into thin winter. Heavy summer grass
Fattens their bellies and thickens their hair

My morning coffee doesn’t satisfy;
I drink half a cup, toss the rest away,
Drift to work on a hot, late summer day,
And watch the far north for geese in the sky