A Poem For September

September

With what relief I greet your temperate
self, September, breathing
energising cool, diffusing quiet
light that’s merciful on skin
that flinches, eyes that shrink
from ruthless August grill and glare —
no more lethargic, sweaty sitting
out of time, just getting through

but living. Waking up refreshed
in airy room, quickening with
a working health I feared I’d lost,
I’ll pick up projects, mop up backlog,
move around with swiftness, vigour
as the season turns — September.

Dorothy Pope

Photo: Jonathan Borba