September 1st. 2018. (Completed Poem).

                  1.

Scholars drawing arbitrary graphs
Have decreed the onset of autumn
Although the autumnal equinox
Is more than three weeks away.

I sit in my sun warmed garden
Listening to the hum of bees
Still collecting valuable pollen
From an abundance of summer flowers.

Male spiders criss crossing the patio
Have abandoned their secretive hideaways
To search for available females
Before the cold rains start to fall.

I value the raw beauty of nature,
The uneven flow of the seasons,
Not the politicized systems of men
Designed to make life neat and tidy,

And today, as I sit in my garden
I think of my long ago school days;
I was trained to abide by convention
And not to take note of my feelings,

Or to pack up my books and my pencils
When my heart beat to a different music
Than the monotone patter of teachers
Intoning the approved syllabus:

You must get an A grade in mathematics
Whatever the cost to your health.
You must learn to be a prudent citizen
And uphold the commonwealth. 

Enlightenment was locked up in the library;
Philosophy and ethics expunged;
History lessons were fixated on Hitler;
Einstein equated with nuclear bombs.

                  2.

Listening to the slow breath of late summer
Gently fading as evening approaches
I relax in my sun warmed garden
At ease with myself and the world.

I am no nihilist, but I do mistrust logic
When used in the workplace and schoolroom
To implement a regulated environment
Out of kilter with the natural world.

Half asleep, I now study the spiders
Behaving as arachnids must,
Colonizing my concrete patio
As they seek to increase their species.

This morning I found deep in the garage
A litter of broken webs.
Old homes deserted at daybreak,
Their secrets torn to shreds.

                   3.

September is the saddest of months,
A dying fall pressaging cruel beginnings.
The female spider eats the luckless male
At the very moment they achieve coitus.

The crimson roses in my patio garden
Attain their richest beauty in September.
Soon the buds will turn black overnight
When early frosts cut deeply into them.

But today I sit outside and read my book,
My straw hat tilted to block out the sun.
I study data compiled by erudite scholars
To explain the complexities of global warming,

A nightmare partly caused by urbanisation,
The will to power expressed in concrete towers,
Like those built on the fields I used to play in
When out of school and free to be myself,

A country boy who loved to sleep at nights
In makeshift tents under the spinning stars.-

I put down my book then take a long cool breath.
I sometimes think we should abandon cities,
Live off the land, dwell in mud brick houses,
Accept the fact that we are not so wise.

Compelled by instinct the spiders hunt for mates.
The shadow that I caste does not concern them.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
September 8th. - 10th. - 13th. - 14th. - October 19th. 2018.

I have only added four more lines, but they complete the poem to my satisfaction.