September: Autumn (“and gathering swallows twitter in the skies”), time for school again (or for skipping school (“We / thin gin”) or for staying home sick (like “little Peggy Ann McKay”)), for remembering September 11th (“the photograph halted them in life”), time for apple picking (“the scent of apples: I am drowsing off”) and for dinner dates with apple pie (“there are very huge stars, man”), for watching harvest moons (“As a beautiful friend / Who remembers”) . . .


Whoops! I neglected to do a “Months” post for May. Here, belatedly, are two May poems  — “Ending” by May Swenson (heh), and “You May Leave a Memory, Or You Can Be Feted By Crows” by Dick Allen, which you will note has the word May in the title (heh again).

“Ending” is sort of a silly poem, a Dr. Sueussian, or perhaps more Shel Silverstein-ian, reincarnation/death meditation. What I like about this poem is basically that, that insouciant-but-still-saying-something tone, as well as the idea of the inner self as a little clear bug. And May, the month, is a little silly anyway. An extension of April’s showers without yet June’s blue skies.

“You May Leave a Memory…” refers to this painted scroll, “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains.” It’s a nice portrait; I like the man in this poem. There’s quite a tradition of American poets writing about Chinese artists, some of which are very lovely poems, worth seeking out (as, of course, are the Chinese artists).

June soon…