An early poem, inspired by Victoria
Magazine.
September’s
verdant view:
light
translucent through the
still
green and
sun-fire-lit
leaves;
country
paths followed
in
search of my wildflower wish,
out
of sun-playful days
into
the cool.
Fruit
swells sweet,
where
mellowed heat
now
tends to summer’s garden,
and
apple-smooth tendrils of
bottle-green
vine
climb
to shadow…
Out
of my window,
I
watch the skylarks dive
and
feed on ruby stead.
In
fields,
we
climb the slopes
of
black-eyed susans
and
render back
those
oft-loved autumn days,
where
song of summer’s heart
still lingers.Emily Isaacson
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