September,

my dear friend,

keeper of balance,

you always move faster

than other moons

or so it seems to me.

Maybe it is because

I am attached to you

and wish you to visit longer

each year. You share your beauty

goldenrods, iron weeds, black-eyed susans,

you who are of the nut gathering moon

I feel your anxiousness in the wind

and I know you are not one to sit

for long, so you must run,

swift like the deer.