So This Is How September Smells Poem by moon batchelder

so this is how september smells
and this is how the morning feels
when amber silk is on the hills
and sunset skies turn cochineal.

and this is how the summer dies,
when night and day their promise keep
to strike a balance in the skies
before the long and winter sleep.

and this is how the autumn comes
as certainly as winter will
in soft procession to the drums
of something imperceptible.

and this is how the seasons change
and this the way the wheel spins
the blessed paradigm arranged
it's hallowed ways to wander in