September lingers in the arms of love
Even as a certain crispness calls.
Perhaps some fear she’s not yet conscious of
Takes messages as she her pleasure stalls,
Embracing what must bleed, as from a wound.
More frequently, she starts to feel marooned.
Business bustles busily with tasks,
Each answering more questions than it asks,
Reminding her how life must be consumed.
More from Love Letter Box:
Submit your review