September asks me to slow
To savor skies and sunsets
Sip coffee and soak in sunshine
September says “Let’s open our palms and listen closer,
Let’s open windows and waft in the first refresh of the next season, Let’s sit in the soft sixties dawn and not reach for a sweater quite yet.
September appreciates presence and creates space for spontaneity.
Wavers in the shift between juicy peaches and crisp apples. Leans toward donuts and cider around a bonfire.
Gives a last hurrah to splashing in the pool and gathering wildflowers.
September rolls the windows down, drives slower, slides the sunroof open. She overlays grass green with leaf green and pulls ginger and gold and an ombre set of orange, coral, and marigold out of her pallette in preparation.
September stays. She sits. She welcomes silence, honors solitude. Shakes her skirts of solidarity and slips her slacks of spaciousness on with familiar ease.
September sees us, slips her hand into ours and squeezes. Celebrates the breath of being. Honors the hard parts of humanity and whispers hope toward this act of being human.
