And Now It’s September, by Barbara Crooker

and the garden diminishes: cucumber leaves rumpled
and rusty, zucchini felled by borers, tomatoes sparse
on the vines. But out in the perennial beds, there’s one last
blast of color: ignitions of goldenrod, flamboyant
asters, spiraling mums, all those flashy spikes waving
in the wind, conducting summer’s final notes.
The ornamental grasses have gone to seed, haloed
in the last light. Nights grow chilly, but the days
are still warm; I wear the sun like a shawl on my neck
and arms. Hundreds of blackbirds ribbon in, settle
in the trees, so many black leaves, then, just as suddenly,
they’re gone. This is autumn’s great Departure Gate,
and everyone, boarding passes in hand, waits
patiently in a long, long line.

And Now It’s September

No doubt about the season, just as Crooker describes. I picked the last tomatoes yesterday after the frost warning and contemplated cucumbers just to see their rumpled and rusty leaves, such a gorgeous phrase.

My heart springs open to see the fall flowers, especially zinnias with their extravagant colours, all those flashy spikes waving / in the wind, conducting summer’s final notes. The magnificent music of summer’s bounty and the tall grasses haloed in the last light, a sight that always makes me pause in wonder.

Can’t you just feel the sun’s warmth reading her words I wear the sun like a shawl on my neck / and arms. And the black leaves of the blackbirds gathering in trees before leaving us wingless creatures to face the colder weather.

It is the final line that captures the essence of this time of year for me: This is autumn’s great Departure Gate. Patiently waiting in line with our boarding passes – does anyone know where we are going? Regardless, the important thing is to take in this glorious, colour-filled season while we have it, so enjoy!

18 thoughts on “And Now It’s September, by Barbara Crooker

  1. Nobody knows where we are going. It sure is a great practice to see the beauty in as many things as we can each day. Watching the news every minute is way too much.

    Like

  2. Thank you for this, Jan. The naming of all these signs somehow allows me to follow with more equanimity – rather than the futile resistance to losing summer. ☺️

    Like

  3. Thank you Jan for this colourful poem…perfectly attuned to this beautiful breeze this Wednesday morning that caressed my skin as I walked in the parc and invited me the enjoy the present moment!

    Like

  4. Fall is my favourite season. I love walking in the leaves, the cooler temperatures, the beautiful fall colours and watching the crows gather before they leave. What a beautiful gift leading to “autumn’s great departure gate”.

    Like

  5. I love every season and autumn has always been my favourite. Crooker captures the autumn brilliance so beautifully in this poem – and the warmth – “Nights grow chilly, but the days are still warm;” I savour the warmth of the still warm sun in September and October – and I also love “…to wear the sun like a shawl on my neck and arms….” I love that line.
    Thank you so much for sharing this poem Jan.
    Love, Lisa

    Like

  6. Yes, Fall is definitely a season of “mellowed fruitfulness” yet this poem shines light lusciously on the bright bursts of Fall-“blasts of colour and flashy spikes“. Glorious words to celebrate the glory of this abundant and delicious season! Can’t wait to go apple picking!
    Thanks Jan, for sharing.

    Like

  7. Lovely poem. It’s been so jarring for the half a million or so in the West who can’t go outside to work in garden due to air quality, or gardens are covered with ash, or much worse. These seasons and this connection with earth ground and help so many, especially during this pandemic, and are amiss.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s