September

The beans are still green but the corn stalks have begun to brown I watch the first leaves fall lazily from an elm tree to the ground I’ll soon find frost on my windshield in the morning when I leave for work at seven the sky as dark as it was when I went to bed the night before With each cycle of the seasons I witness time develops a lead foot accelerating precipitously speeding like a race car driver trying to win the pole position towards the day of my demise It seems I was only just joyfully noticing those very same leaves unfurling verdant from their buds under cerulean blue skies a warm spring breeze chasing away the chill Festoons of flowers blooming like colorful candy Bees buzzing busily about them Birds returning from their southern sojourn chirping cheerfully as the world around me awakened once again The embers of summer cool in September Soon all will sleep soundly under covers of snow and clouds of grey I will weather another winter wrapped in blankets in my room fingers of icy air seeping in around my window attempting to stay warm as I write what few will ever read and talk to the walls and the portraits of a prince that hang upon them asking what they think of my latest poem or play though I know they’ll never say