To the Light of September

When you are already here
you appear to be only
a name that tells of you
whether you are present or not 

and for now it seems as though
you are still summer
still the high familiar
endless summer
yet with a glint
of bronze in the chill mornings
and the late yellow petals
of the mullein fluttering
on the stalks that lean
over their broken
shadows across the cracked ground 

but they all know
that you have come
the seed heads of the sage
the whispering birds
with nowhere to hide you
to keep you for later 

you
who fly with them 

you who are neither
before nor after
you who arrive
with blue plums
that have fallen through the night 

perfect in the dew

-- W. S. Merwin (1927-2019), two time Poet Laureate of the United States (1999-200 and 2010-2011), two time Pulitzer Prize winner, translator, poet, anti-war activist, and ecologist