Nine/Twelve

The lush green cures

And ages

Into the limey-yellow glow

of September

As the feet ache

From running bare in that heat

Beating down and soaking into

The pavement

And the eyes strain

Against an illuminated pasture

That doses your wandering 

With naive clarity 

Our voices laze into something cozy

But don’t hush

As the year lurches into

Its mid-afternoon slump

I chug my cold coffee while I can

And thank the colors 

For coming ‘round.