September
By Mildred Alpern
Autumn starts in late September
When day and night equate in time
The equinox arrives to herald
The end of summer’s balmy clime
The early morning’s sudden chill
Frosts the asters on the hill
Like sapphire blue clear in tone
Matching the zodiac’s birthstone
It’s harvest pick for apple trees
Varieties all bound to please
The cook and baker and those who munch
Savor the bright red apple crunch
September leaves with a fluttering goodbye
From the migratory Monarch butterfly
Mildred Alpern was West Side Rag’s beloved poet and photographer-in-residence from its beginning in 2011. She conceived of the Calendar Project, a series of poems and photographs to begin each month, in January, 2023. She died in April of that year at the age of 91, but, in a very Mildred manner, left behind the remainder of the year for us to enjoy. (Thanks to Spenser Alpern, her son, for finding and sending these treasures.) We are pleased to rerun Mildred’s September offering here.
To read and see more of Mildred Alpern’s contributions to the Rag, click here.
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When an early autumn walks the land and chills the breeze
and touches with her hand the summer trees,
perhaps you’ll understand what memories I own.
There’s a dance pavilion in the rain all shuttered down,
a winding country lane all russet brown,
a frosty window pane shows me a town grown lonely.
Johnny Mercer
Autumn in New York, why does it seem so inviting?
Autumn in New York, it spells the thrill of first-nighting
Glittering crowds and shimmering clouds in canyons of steel
They’re making me feel I’m home
It’s autumn in New York that brings the promise of new love
Autumn in New York is often mingled with pain
Dreamers with empty hands may sigh for exotic lands
It’s autumn in New York
It’s good to live it again
Vernon Duke
Thank you for sharing..
Beautiful..
Thank you Mildred. And Spenser. God bless.
Beautiful! Thank you Mildred.