September Night Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

September Night



Sitting on the branch in a
September night
the wise Owl garroulous
cunningly garbled her wise
saws.

Beyond the line of dark seas
where the moon plays
she sees and dreams
as humans dream and
more.

too soon
too soon the cool September
will soon pass
yielding to a ferrous October
than thin taut cold and
frosty eyed November and
December.

Yet
in the fortress of your brain
wisdom as old wine
betters with every day
deepens with the chill
and the wind ruffling feathers.

September slips quickly
day by day
and night by night
October grimly looks
at its near triumph

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