A Poem Remembered: My September Garden Poem

During a late-summer visit with my mom, I mentioned that I couldn't believe that September was already upon us. She became still, slowly looked up from her lunch, and recited the first stanza of September, a poem from the 1800s by Helen Hunt Jackson (1830–1885). She shared that she memorized it in 5th grade, nearly 90 years ago. Her voice, while crackly and weathered, still carried the poem's truth.

I hadn't really thought about September—or any month—in any meaningful way. But after reflecting on that beautiful moment and replaying the touching recording at least a dozen times, I decided I needed to write my own September garden poem that captures the beauty of the nature that I hold so dear.

September as I See It

The blazing stars are fading,

the tomatoes turning red;

The sunflowers once bright and tall

now bow their sleepy heads.

The beans begin to toughen up,

the hyssop goes to seed,

Sneeze weed leans in golden hush

while on her insects feed.

As the lazy days of summer

begin to fade away,

September stirs a grateful heart—

for the harvest on display.

September as I See It Poem

Blazing Star

A quiet bow as the season turns.

Climbing beans beginning to change color in the September garden.

Sneezeweed blooming in a late‑summer garden

Tall Joe Pye weed wildflower in a September garden

Pawpaw fruit hanging in the tree in a late‑summer Ohio garden

September will always hold a special place in my heart—woven with memories of my mother and the beauty that surrounds me.