September

I could change my name to September.
It would be a privilege to be thought of when
Cool evenings begin.
When slant of the sunset brings autumn’s glow to my kitchen
And grain dust is in the air.
When golden coins drift above crunching footfalls
And a warm afternoon brings the gift of one more supper taken outside.
When chrysanthemums are at the back door
And pumpkins pile at the supermarket.
When new shoes and notebooks find purpose
And Equinox settles our breath.
It’s farewell to the beach,
Farewell to full body sunscreen.
Farewell to two piece bathing suits.
It’s eclipse season and layers,
Pumpkin spice, dried seed pods, apple pie,
Soup, fresh bread, earth tones, corn mazes,
Ripe tomatoes, preserves
And readying.
Bring Grandma’s red Afghan to the couch.
Stave off the hum of radiators.
Wrap the cedars.
Observe wild geese in flight,
They glide above, regal and readied.
They sleep while they fly, I’ve been told.
May we all sleep in flight
And find safe passage
Through the hushed monotone that awaits.