August needs more poems, less exercise.
I miss my therapist, my friend on an expensive dime.
I resent North Carolina for stealing the good therapists.
Now I have to learn independence by myself.
September needs less Halloween, more September.
I feel bad for the month with so much character
and so little holiday, labor day not withstanding
its bigger brother holidays muscling through the season.
I like September best with a dash of pumpkin spice
served over a latte in a cup covered by brown leaves,
so crisp they threaten to crack the cup before
I finish the creamy, spicy, and lively latte inside.
Looming over the shelf are the stern-faced sun,
the Kenyan elephant, Yukon bear, and some flitty bird
from Guatemala. What they have to do with rising
costs of coffee I don’t know, but they appear important.
I miss my therapist, my friend on an expensive dime.
I resent North Carolina for stealing the good therapists.
Now I have to learn independence by myself.
September needs less Halloween, more September.
I feel bad for the month with so much character
and so little holiday, labor day not withstanding
its bigger brother holidays muscling through the season.
I like September best with a dash of pumpkin spice
served over a latte in a cup covered by brown leaves,
so crisp they threaten to crack the cup before
I finish the creamy, spicy, and lively latte inside.
Looming over the shelf are the stern-faced sun,
the Kenyan elephant, Yukon bear, and some flitty bird
from Guatemala. What they have to do with rising
costs of coffee I don’t know, but they appear important.