This week’s poem is by Daniel Thomas Moran, the poetry editor for Humanist Network News.
Daniel Thomas Moran served as Poet Laureate of Suffolk County, New York from 2005 to 2007. His work has appeared in The New York Times, National Forum, and the Poetry Salzburg Review. He is a Clinical Assistant Professor at Boston University’s School of Dental Medicine. His website is www.danielthomasmoran.net.
If you’d like to contribute original poetry to Humanist Voices in Verse, write to firstname.lastname@example.org with “Poetry” in the subject line. Please send no more than three poems for consideration per week.
Come now, September, faithful friend,
On whose pure, light air do I depend.
Extract the harvest, the wind from fields,
A cloak against winter, a bounty yields.
Take with you, July, its rumbling rains,
August’s glare, which parched the plains.
October will come to paint these leaves,
And draw deep the breath November heaves.
Too soon December comes to brood,
Where life and dying have come to feud.
But, you September whose soul’s the pure,
May your splendid countenance long endure.
Take me along where e’re you go,
Bestow those dreams Septembers know.
—Daniel Thomas Moran