my careless contagion

September is changes. Small at first, then bigger. By the end of the month, we hardly recognize you, September.  She begins when it is still summer. When she leaves, it is autumn. This year, when she began, I was in one place. When she ends, I'll be in another. To some, this may seem like a small change, but for me, it is big. It's bigger than the change in the air or displays in the shops.  September means the beginning of autumn. This autumn will be different from the last several. I'll get lost in it. Swallowed up in it. The leaves will change later. The snow will fly later, too. Last September, we had snow the first week of the month. Here, I don't know when it will fall.  September is my birth month. In grade school, I was one of the earliest to celebrate my birthday. I recall the school principal would come and give me a birthday card and how that felt. Surely, this man was the busiest man in the world, yet he came to wish me a happy birthday. What a wonderful mom...

If I could liken autumn to a woman (Autumn, is, after all, a woman's name), she is the one who leaves (an unintentional pun). She is in the fading phase of a relationship. She's still there, but she is also gone. Her beauty is more achingly sweet because you know your time with her is short. I have my own memories of a time like that (and she was truly beautiful as she said goodbye). I savor those memories because they are the last time I had her, if a man can ever truly have a woman. Because a woman can change like the seasons. You think you know her, but you don't. All you will ever know is she changes, and sometimes without warning. One minute you're walking together, and the next she's gone. Just the memory remains, and you ask yourself who will drive your soul . The only answer is the breeze. The chill on the air reminds you winter is on the way, and autumn is the warning. Winter is a cruel, yet beautiful season. Those who heed autumn's warning will surv...

Autumn. It is a season of contradictions. On one hand, it is the harvest season; it is fullness and bountiful goodness, a reward for hard labor. On the other hand, once the world has reached full ripeness, there is nothing left but rot. The leaves fall, the pumpkins cave in upon themselves, and the apple orchard smells like a brewery. But, much like life itself, while it lasts, it is pure magic. Autumn is my favorite season. I was born on the cusp of fall in September. September means a return to school. It's a month of great change. Summer is still beating down its heat when the month begins. The memories made over the summer still linger, but they're fading like our suntans as we sit at our desks in school and we look longingly at the playground equipment we assault just twice a day instead of the whole outdoors all day long we had just weeks ago.  The month ends and we fill bleachers to watch football games, blankets on our laps as the sun sets and the big lights co...

I fought for you but you're fading fast like summer into fall like fall into winter I kept you close to my heart for the second summer now I feel you slipping away as the third winter approaches I let you go I had no choice I hated every moment of saying goodbye My heart is weary my body is broken and tired my mind aches as I imagine life without you The irony is I want you to go back go back to him go back forever  I want you to be happy I want to disappear let these shadows I've cast fall no more on you The pain I've caused is beyond my understanding My girl I can't ever make it up to you Love does not matter not anymore I thought it did but I was wrong Everything I've fought for is gone Everything I wanted I've lost You're just the latest thing I didn't deserve Goodbye, my love You were perfect in my arms We had our moment — our golden moment in the sun We held each other like it was the only th...