its late
and the stale September air feels
to linger on a hint of something impending
search for its meaning
but the stars are muted by sky
and.she lay here sleeping peacefully
so all the known
is reduced to stark words
penned to page so long ago
the instruments of its creation have since
turned to dust and bones
have become like September air
the forever transition
between warmth of loving summer
and the cold grip of winter

its late
and the September air is stale
in my chest
as I breath quietly next to my lover
as she dreams
of me
I entwine my hand in hers
and urge sleep to overtake me
so I can join her smiles
and run with her in our dream