A Friday in September

As I hold the door
a woman in bright colors
smiles warmly at me.

I know not her name
nor her mine, but together
we share a moment.

Along the broad lawn,
the cool shade of the great oaks
tempts me, “Stay and rest.”

I’m crossing Third Street,
the shadow of the oak trees
swaying dark and gentle.

Children playing in
the park nearby laugh and sing;
young joy unfettered.

Peace and joy beckon,
and yet I compel myself
to let them pass by.

And across Fourth Street,
a northerly wind blowing:
quiet; seductive.

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2 Responses

  1. Very beautiful.

    Thank you!

  2. I’ve decided to skip this day from now on; I’ll take a nice sedative and spend the day in bed. It’s just too hard to deal with, so I won’t.

    For me it had nothing to do with the calendar date or the anniversary; it was just the feeling of this day in my life. That’s why I titled it “A Friday” instead of “Sept 11.”

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