she called herself September,
the quiet grace of children
wrangled back into their classrooms,
drained of summer's heady rush.
she held a calm about her;
the same to strike the trees
bound to drop their leaves
and the moment between the bus' heavy groan
and her first step into its liquid yellow warmth.

she taught me to keep only two things
for the ones you love,
something to remember the very best
without the weight of a thousand words
pushing through my veins.
leaving her,
carefully i collected my tokens-

pavement, black with rain
and ombre eyes of the first blue
to touch the sky come dawn.