The first day of autumn
when a young writer's thoughts turn to
falling leaves, pumpkins, and poetry.
September
by Helen Hunt Jackson
The goldenrod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
The gentian's bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusky pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.
The sedges
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