such a surprise to see you before me,
not even a rumour of your impending arrival.
So unlike the ninth month
to simply arrive unannounced,
as your usually-reliable predecessor will often
drop subtle hints;
the chill at night, even a warning of frost at times.
We often stop and admire those early sunsets with
that melancholic mood you feel
when the end is near.
August seemed to drag its heels, this year,
as summer instead gave us this unrelenting heat
by day, and all those sweaty nights. Night after
night, days without rain. No reminders
of what time it was.
One month seemed to become larger than intended,
flowing right into the next.
September usually stands alone.
Now it arrives without a rest,
and I just notice.
© 2021 j.g. lewis