What September

Ceaselessly, 
the September moon 
was sending poems 
in quick succession. 

Life had come to a grinding halt. 

The walls, 
wait to end the race of 
stings. The heat was 
a dirty yellow. 

You will witness the fall of a titan. 

The genome of red 
wine grape was 
similar to a forgotten 
verse, after the― 

rage of ageing cells of a sage.