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Poetry Sunday: Late September by Amy Lowell

This poem by Amy Lowell was written more than a hundred years ago and yet it still seems fresh and fitting for this "late September."

Late September

by Amy Lowell

Tang of fruitage in the air;
Red boughs bursting everywhere;
Shimmering of seeded grass;
Hooded gentians all a'mass.
Warmth of earth, and cloudless wind
Tearing off the husky rind,
Blowing feathered seeds to fall
By the sun-baked, sheltering wall.
Beech trees in a golden haze;
Hardy sumachs all ablaze,
Glowing through the silver birches.
How that pine tree shouts and lurches!
From the sunny door-jamb high,
Swings the shell of a butterfly.
Scrape of insect violins
Through the stubble shrilly dins.
Every blade's a minaret
Where a small muezzin's set,
Loudly calling us to pray
At the miracle of day.
Then the purple-lidded night
Westering comes, her footsteps light
Guided by the radiant boon
Of a sickle-shaped new moon.


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Comments

  1. David M. Gascoigne,September 24, 2023 at 5:27 AM

    It captures the season very well. The Islamic imagery is interesting. I wonder how that would go over today?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Lark September 24, 2023 at 10:56 AM

    Reading this poem reminds me of how many great words there are in the English language...and how few we end up using in real life. It's a little sad. But the poem is beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  3. AlanaSeptember 24, 2023 at 4:40 PM

    What imagery in those words - for instance "the scrape of insect violins". It does capture fall well.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Deb Nance at ReaderbuzzSeptember 25, 2023 at 4:31 AM

    This poem, like all good poems, is fresh and true in its imagery and its impact.

    ReplyDelete

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