The trees began to bend
sussurus with sound
September was so close
I could smell her breath.
A gold medalist
twirling Oak leaves
in her hands,
gathered
in bunches and
scattered them
skyward
with a gust
of wind.

Remember me
he spins
remember me
in
September,
'neath school books
and apricot Essays,
with necklaces
strung of
purple clover.