Mid September

It’s not quite time

to settle

into the coziness of darker days,

the smell of inside heat

while winds blow outside

and the sun comes just

in scattered, rapid glances,

and rain spatters

and there is no guilt

in staying inside all day

Now the squash have played their hands —

some will roll in flush and full to harvest,

some are banking on a longer season,

their fruits now small and hopeful and daring

And the heart race

of this span of opportunity

pulls me forward —

right to the edge of what I can know,

right to the hungering yearning urge

to keep leaping, one bound after another,

into open space.

©Wendy Mulhern

September 15, 2015