Perfectly perfect

September rolls in

a happy apple heavy in my hand.

Chin skyward. Smile wide.

Taste the sweetness.

September is wooded with Ticonderoga pencils

stacked with notebooks and sketchbooks

words and ideas waiting to be pulled into line

understood, remembered

captured, released. 

September is effortlessly balanced and centered

Day and night hold their own,

the breath between them neither hot nor cold.

Inhale equals exhale

A gentle rise, a gentle fall.

It is the season

When the restless cat crouches

on the sill of an open window

and tastes inside and outside at once,

sighing under a smiling sun,

sleeping under the moon.

Inside and outside at once.

It is the end of ambivalence and indecision

The place and time

where past and future embrace

full and yielding

without want.

Without want

Perfectly perfect

At home and at home

Palms up and heart wide. 

Comments

[Susan Raihala]

What a wonderful, wonderful poem! It says beautifully all I've been thinking about this, my favorite time of the year. Thank you.

[Magpie]

I was with you until the pencils. My kid brought home a box of Ticonderoga pencils that are impregnated with anti-microbials. This made me incensed. (I wrote about it the other day.)

But yes,fall has a nice promise.

[sarah piazza]

yes, you've captured it.

[V-Grrrl]

Magpie,

I read your post earlier. I agree with you on the antimicrobials in pencils. A stupid (and potentially dangerous) marketing schtick to appeal to overprotective germophobes.

But I do love plain Ticonderoga pencils--for writing, sketching, everything. They sharpen so nicely and hold a point well. Other pencils can't compare!

[Kim]

My goodness, you make September sound like the very best month of the year. You make this moment in time feel like the perfect one.

[alejna]

I loved this. Fall is my favorite time of year, and you've beautifully captured so many of the reasons why. I especiallly love the bit about tasting inside and outside at once.

[V-Grrrl]

Alejna,

I'm fascinated by the idea of inside and outside at once too. It is the joy of an open window, and on another level it is the perfect state where who you are on the inside and who you are on the outside are exactly the same.