A September Day

The sun still shines brightly, a
High, round, smooth disc of warmth,
Yet the air grows cold, biting away
The tenderness of the sun, people
Bustle and hustle away as fast as
They can, to keep warm in the cool heat
Of the day. The leaves flow beguilingly
To the ground, just beginning to crisp
And harden, making that lovely crunchy
Sound. The world keeps turning, the
Traffic passing by, yet no one else
Can see the beauty of these final
Few butterflies, the copper leaves and
Cooling air, it seems that when summer leaves
No one cares.


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