September by John Updike
The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze.
2 comments:
You are amazing!!! Love your photography!! Wish I lived close enough to use you. Haven't had family photos done since you did them. Arin
I love you Arin! Thank you so much! Next time we get together, I'll have to do your photos. Miss you bunches!!!
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