Poem: September

careful, steady, rhythmic, the beginning of the end

Kimber Was Here is a record of how I make sense of the world. These essays are my oranges. Thanks for following along :)

September

At her loom,
September sits.

A masterpiece in the making — 
weaving in and out and through
careful, steady,
rhythmic, 
the beginning of the end

Back and forth, back and forth
in and out and through

At her old, withered loom,
September sits.

She is an exhale, a dying wish
A sweet decay

September shines brightest before her funeral,
Leaves dressing up for their deaths
succumbing to a yellow, orange, maroon
quilt of fallen leaves 

She pulls this woven quilt up to her chin,
Holding onto the warmth as long as she can

We can only hope,
like September,
we will be our most colorful 
before we die

Thanks for reading,

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Poem: June

Poem: July

Poem: August

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