“The tortoise always comes too late;
The hare a day ahead.
I’d hate to be the engineer
Of the Wild Beast Limited.”
SEPTEMBER
IX
SEPTEMBER
Libra
Very familiar September seemed:
A flag-pole stood in the yard,
And the little path that led from the road
Was trampled bare and hard.
A bell hung high in the little tower,
And when the door swung wide
They saw a young woman with pen in hand,
Writing away inside.