September

Now in the sweet September chill
I watch the yellowing leaf spin down
and am remembering suddenly
a summer evening warm and still:

the mellow air was pink and clear,
with pink phlox sentinel in the dusk
and in the far blue-arching sky
one sharp star standing white and near.

And now the phlox is cut away
and where the lilacs hummed with bees
the leaves hang empty, dreaming of
that drugged and scented latter day.

But ah my heart is not afraid
and sees no threat in this decline
from sunwarmed flowers to splitting pod,
knowing it will not be betrayed.

Time is no enemy to fear.
Love knows Time's secret and is glad,
and stands with wide arms, welcoming
all seasons in each friendly year.