September
You
told me so
It
was in September, when first my love did die
When
your fruit was hardening with softness
Like
the skin of pears waited their turn
To
deliver the year’s promised labour
Before
his winkly, crinkly, crystal-blue eyes
Danced
with the Autumn night stars
That
haloed his Celtic want
That
was a full twelve months of waiting
And
still he stays in the hills, dancing a swirl
To
leave both dog and fire to father his brogue
You
told me so
It
was in September, when I and swallows left
Harry
Mills22 October2011: Philippines
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