September The breezes taste Of apple peel. The air is full Of smells to feel- Ripe fruit, old footballs, Drying grass, New books and blackboard Chalk in class. The bee, his hive Well-honeyed, hums While Mother cuts Chrysanthemums. Like plates washed clean With suds, the days Are polished with A morning haze. From… A Child’s Calendar – Poems… 

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