Poem: September’s Evening Green
In tonight’s twilight the garden before me
wears its greenest September green, and bears
melons, tomatoes, apples, beans, and I live
through each root
through each stem and leaf
right up to the sky
chorused by crickets, cicadas,
toads and frogs.
A full symphony
buoys me up, up, up
and I’ll keep this picture close
though withering will come,
though ice and bleak
are neighbors to this season.
For now, right now, Summer
is still here
in her greenest, greenest, green.