September Poem
The breezes taste
of apple peel.
The air is full
of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
burning brush,
new books, erasers,
chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive, 
well-honeyed hum,
and Mother cuts
chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
with suds, the days
are polished with
a morning haze.
John Updike

September is here and I’m ambivalent.  While I appreciate the cooler air, I’m not a fan of the steady march towards winter.

Yes and No

Yes!  I love a good apple crisp made from freshly picked apples.  No!  I don’t like pulling out winter clothes and putting my sandals away. Yes!  Fall is the only time of the year for Pumpkin Spice anything.  No!  I don’t like the chill that settles into my bones.

Yes.  September is here.  And I’m uncertain how to feel.

The air is full of smells.  September is here and I'm ambivalent.  I'm not a fan of the steady march towards winter.  On UnfoldAndBegin.com
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