William C Ross’ most recent poem to appear here was Old Keys (June 2013). It seems appropriate to mark summer’s passing on the first day of winter. 

September Song
By William C Ross

Fireflies are fewer as the nights grow long.
The crickets still fiddle their serotinal song.
The meadow is covered by early dew’s shawl,
And the leaves in the trees show their first blush of fall.

Late in the summer, air has the perfume
Of those bashful flowers that come late to bloom.
All things to their season. Summer’s song had its day,
And with bittersweet notes, now fades, fades away.