September's entered in the town so softly,
that one hasn't felt the Autumn coming.
Warm nights are rare and in rainy August.
This year gives lavish warmth, indulging.
But days are shorter. The reservoirs mirrors
are darker day to day from night touches.
And day to day the faded flood-land meadow's
more thickly wrapped in the gauze-white fog.
This shawl is spreading to the far horizon.
And the white cloister sleeps in creases
of this wide cloth, which moves quite slightly
from interrupted rare wind breath.
by Thea Ariss
02.09.2026
Soft warmth of September
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126090208243
Свидетельство о публикации №126090208243
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