September Midnight
Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.
The grasshopper’s horn, and far-off, high in the maples,
The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence
Under a moon waning and worn, broken,
Tired with summer.
Let me remember you, voices of little insects,
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,
Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us,
Snow-hushed and heavy.
Over my soul murmur your mute benediction,
While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest,
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,
Lest they forget them.
Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)
published 1914
I hadn't heard of Sara Teasdale before seeing this post and I must admit I rarely give poetry a fighting chance, despite the many treasures I know exist therewithin. This little piece so perfectly captures the end of summer. I'm intrigued by her writing and shall look up more of her work. Thanks Nan!
ReplyDeleteGood to hear from you. There are two others on the blog. If you click on poems under the blog header picture, and scroll down to her name, you will see them. In fact, many of the poems I've posted are accessible and understandable and I find, very deep and heartfelt.
DeleteThis is great Nan. I love September...and October...and November... :)
ReplyDeleteNo others? :<)
DeleteI’ve never read her. I’d love to sit on her porch and watch Indian summer with a cup of tea. Perhaps I shall. Thanks, Nan.
ReplyDeleteI think her poems are quite wonderful. She had a short, sad life so the beauty of the poems is all the more poignant.
DeleteVery beautiful. Very evocative. Our autumn is not quite begun, yet I see the signs everywhere. I love this time of year.
ReplyDeleteIt's those signs that are wonderful. There's a new one every day. September is so lovely. So special.
DeleteYou always find the most perfect poems for things. Since I am a person who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, I am going to cut this out to remind me that summer will be back. Thanks, Nan.
ReplyDeleteOh, thank you. Do you have one of those lamps? They are really supposed to help. Me, I love the dark winter days. I feel all cozy inside and refreshed outside.
DeleteWhat a glorious poem, Nan. I am a huge lover of insects. People bring me dead insects and I make very special little boxes to house them. My grandchildren and I have lessons about why this insect has long antennae, or that insect has big jaws, or another has bright colors, etc. So much fun teaching them about bugs and insects. Now I think I shall read this poem to them and we'll venture out after dark to listen for their chants. I can hardly wait!
ReplyDeleteThanks from Diane in North Carolina
Oh, really. May I bring you my ticks and my Japanese beetles and my tent caterpillars? :<) You are a real ambassador for insects. It's nice when kids don't react as so many grownups do.
DeleteI love to think of you and those little ones doing this.
Indeed, all your six-legged (and the eight-legged ones, too) critters are welcome to visit...it is interesting to try to figure out why they were put on Earth, isn't it? I have an absolutely gorgeous housefly with luminous wings and big eyes. He is perfect and I found him dead on my front porch. He stays in a tiny ceramic frog box and I use him to explain how a frog uses his tongue to capture insects. I love this little ditty: "God in his wisdom made the fly, then forgot to tell us why!"
DeleteIt is good to expose children to insects. It's amazing to watch their disgust and fear change to curiosity when you talk to them about how they do in fact contribute to the earth. We'd be in a real mess if we didn't have some of the beetles and other insects to clean up rotted food, animals, etc. But I do agree with you that it's kind of hard to see the worth of ticks, Japanese beetles and tent caterpillars! Some of my adult friends are even coming around to not freaking out at the sight of a spider...there are a lot of them this time of year and I've convinced a lot of my friends to just leave them alone instead of killing them. You reckon I'm the Johnny Appleseed of the insect world, LOL?
I think of most spiders as Charlotte in E.B. White's book. My children's late first grade teacher had a classroom full of creatures. It was like being in a garden.
DeleteThank you, a beautiful poem, reading it slowed me down to appreciate all that is around me. We also have the sound of chainsaws as people take advantage of this dry weather to gather wood for the winter.:-)
ReplyDeleteCarole
I'm very fond of that sound.
Delete