My sweet September dawn, resist
the growing, dewy morning glow,
retard the sun with gentle mist,
begin the hours of this day slow.
Allow the birds a brief delay,
a pause, before they take to wing.
My sweet September dawn, betray
the coming winter’s hurried sting.
Our growing season seemed too quick;
our harvest work is not yet done;
our berries have not ripened thick:
slow, slow the rising autumn sun.
Create a day that seems less brief.
Release one leaf at break of day,
at noon release another leaf;
one from my trees, one far away.
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