Lawrence Hall
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September for You
Everyone writes poems about September
That month which serves as a hinge to each year
Tired summer collapsing into cool autumn
A new term and new terms on the quarter-day
I remember walking in the fields with you
And holding hands among the stubbled crops
While you sang to me and our changing world -
You were the joy of golden Michaelmas-time
And though all those Septembers have flown away
Whenever I pass a field
I look for you
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