September

By Ella Wheeler Wilcox

My life’s long radiant Summer halts at last,
And lo! beside my path way I behold
Pursuing Autumn glide: nor frost nor cold
Has heralded her presence; but a vast
Sweet calm that comes not till the year has passed
Its fevered solstice, and a tinge of gold
Subdues the vivid colouring of bold
And passion-hued emotions. I will cast

My August days behind me with my May,
Nor strive to drag them into Autumn’s place,
Nor swear I hope when I do but remember.
Now violet and rose have had their day,
I’ll pluck the soberer asters with good grace
And call September nothing but September.

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad

Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad x
Dear Black Child - Grace Storm Ad
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
LEVEL UP!
Drop your email and we'll send you 25 poetry editing guidelines to help transform your creative writing!
Send It!
Subscribe To: State Of The Arts Magazine
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!
Subscribe To: State Of The Arts Magazine
Privacy Policy: This information will never be shared with third parties.
Subscribe Now!