Thoughts like a landscape you can stand on the edge of,
times of your life you can’t get enough of.
September smells like twenty three.
Reminds me of inspiration and eternity.
September said he’d love me until we died and died again,
I believed in September and gave my love to him.
A promise of forever,
left out the first door of October.
Lord if you could leave a little wonder after all the lights of life go out
I know you’ll lay it in September between breaths that I remember.
Hide it on the breeze
underneath some tall pine trees.
I’ll look for it at dusk
along with a handful of yesterdays trust.
Since your still out there I hope you feel me out here too,
the only place our souls will meet is underneath your sky of blue.
With summer in the back of your throat and winter on your tongue
I would love to wrap my arms around that September when I was young.
So here’s to hoping that the way I love September is the way September is loving me.
By: Beth Soileau 9-6-2011