September Poems

Spring scarce had greener fields to show than these
Of mid September; through the still warm noon
The rivulets ripple forth a gladder tune
Than ever in the summer; from the trees
Dusk-green, and murmuring inward melodies,
No leaf drops yet; only our evenings swoon
In pallid skies more suddenly, and the moon
Finds motionless white mists out on the leas.
          – Edward Dowden, “In September“

I can hear
September’s
leaf
following
me
down
the asphalt
surface
of Locust Street
cartwheeling
on pins
when suddenly,
it stops –
just
to see
if I’ll turn
to look.
          - [ unattributed ]

(I am trying to identify the author of the second poem but have not yet; please comment if you know the author and I will update the post accordingly.)