September born,
when autumn twists its knot in the world,
and the leaves change like so many thoughts
and fickle crushes…
The smoke of burning leaves
can rise like a chant to the Pleiades,
coming late over the treetops
to play the role of diamonds
In the sky again…
And somehow September born,
all seems like an old song,
coming back to our tired minds
to stir the season inside anew.
~~Fiddler 09/25/2002
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