this bit of poetry
just might be my very favorite
so much so
that it makes me wish
my birthday
could be in september
every reading
gives me that little flutter
in my middle
to read these words
written by a man
about the woman he loves
september has come
it is hers
whose vitality leaps in the autumn,
whose nature prefers
trees without leaves
and a fire in the fireplace
so i give her this month and the next
though the whole of my year should be hers
who has rendered
already
so many of its days intolerable or perplexed
but so many more so happy
who has left a scent on my life and left my walls
dancing over and over with her shadow,
whose hair is twined in all my waterfalls
and all of london littered with remembered kisses.
~excerpt from autumn journal by louis macneice
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