September Light

In September light,
Before the leaves turn
Summer holds its breath.

Sun sits low on the skyline
And shines under the red 

Reflection of its setting.

Trees are dun green.
Some, the rowans,
Berried and heavy.

Faded birches catch
Late rays brightening
The fragmented forest
Where they stand.

Willows lean, arching.

Alders on the streams
Grip the gravel beds
Where water dwells.

Pines on the shallow hills
Green the dimness, crowd
Together as the sky flames
Against deepening blue.

Grey nimbus veils
Follow the sun down.

Shredded vapour lifts
Like smoke on the wind,
Drifts like a parlour trick
Where thin mist rides
Breathing in the air.

A gasp inhaled.

Night
Follows.
Deep.

Silenced.

© BH, 2016

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One of those nights. Drawn from memory and the horizon beyond the house.

It’s late August. Just days before September. So why not?