September is a new hope, a fresh beginning.
Gentle rain moves in early, cleansing the air of lingering summer
as life settles back to a familiar rhythm.
In the soft breeze before dawn dwells a whisper of promise;
the sun touches the horizon of Rome’s seventh month.
I remember being a child in early September,
a blue zip-up sweatshirt, a yellow pencil with a pink eraser
and the brown wooden desk in a classroom that was much older than me,
gazing out the grey window at the rain.
As we meet once again I am reminded of this little poem. It returns my anxious thoughts to the Septembers of long ago, before I knew the burdens of adulthood. I still experience that whisper of promise each time you come to visit; you continue to bridge the fast-paced summer into the slower more measured Autumn, when all of nature begins to reflect, refresh and prepare to start over again. Continue reading