Poetry Friday

I'd like to pay tribute to the end of September with this poem by Valerie Bloom:

Autumn Gilt
The late September sunshine
Lime green on the linden leaves
Burns bronze on the slated roof-tops,
Yellow on the farmer's last sheaves.

The rest of the poem is here.

I feel an affinity for Valerie Bloom's poems, perhaps it's because we've both grown up in a culture that is vastly different than the one we've chosen to settle. Even though I feel at home in the US and have been here longer than any of the three countries I've lived in, I still carry around in me the language, the music, the people of the other cultures. At times, I find myself using a term or phrase in a particular language that conveys much more than its surface meaning. Or I'd think of strange juxtapositions of food ingredients. And occasionally I'd use cultural references that are completely foreign to the group I'm with but my friends are used to being confounded every once in a while. It's a rich life.

Speaking of a rich life, treasures await at the roundup at The Miss Rumphius Effect.