When cool September with his first chill breeze
Has left the leaves but loosely on the trees
To patiently await the winds to come --
The stronger, sharper, colder winds which drum
Incessantly upon the withered leaves
Until the last most stubborn leaf receives
A blast of air which tasks too much its power
To hold unto its branch another hour.

Some old verse of mine to welcome September: - July 3, 1959