A 25th wedding anniversary poem for my lovely wife.
September hangs a little lower;
Each branch still be strong, but
Wearied now by the pull of
The brown old ground beneath
And I fear for all that fruit
For it must surely fall.
Yet how these trees are kissed with gold
In our late summer blooming
Every bird still joins our song
And all the earth is turning
Let the fruit fall as it will
How else shall seeds be sowing?
Let us sit down beneath these trees
And take some time for loving