Napowrimo #4 (a day late)

I spent all day yesterday grading research papers and got behind. My goal is to sneak in two writing sessions today. I'll be back in the evening, but for now, here's NAPO 4:

Napowrimo #4

Why September is the Cruelest Month

Every September, I feel that loss again –
As the leaves loosen from the trees
I remember his loosening grip,
as the ground cools I remember
his body growing cold. As the first front
rips the summer into oblivion,
I can’t help but feel it again,
That end of bliss, of innocence,
When days of the week bleed
Into each other, a seamless mixing
Of time only ignorance can bring –
A time when death was an abstraction,
Something that happened to parakeets,
Gold fish, mosquitos, but not human beings like me.

There’s beauty, though, in change.
When summer breaks apart,
That’s when I realize, each year,
That a season stands before me,
That it’s time to get back to the hard work
Of making the most of the time we have left,
The hard work of the living.