September
Sunlight glows
low
through my
windows,
a changed
position
from high summer
light,
the golden hour that casts
a robust yellow
glare
across roads,
signs, rearview mirrors,
blinding
reflections surrender
to sunsets sooner
each day.
Hummingbirds
fatten
for long flights,
summer solitary
they share nectar
at last.
Dry cornstalks
stiffen in fields,
waiting for
harvest.
Leaves fall to
the ground.
Pumpkin spice
scents, apples ripen
into cider amid
bushels of fall festivals,
perennial as forget-me-nots.
Lylanne Musselman is an award-winning Hoosier poet, playwright, and visual artist. Her work has been published in many journals including Flying Island, The Tipton Poetry Journal, and The New Verse News, among others, and many anthologies. Musselman is the author of five poetry chapbooks and a full-length poetry collection, It’s Not Love, Unfortunately (Chatter House Press, 2018).