Sunday, September 30, 2007

Glad to see you go, go, go, go, goodbye

Dear September,

I'm not quite sure how to put this, so I'm going to come right out and say it: You've outstayed your welcome.

Look, I was excited as you were about you coming to town for a month. I mean, what's a year without a visit from old September, right? but, dude, you've really been a downer this year and I just can't take any more of your crap. Now September, I don't want you to get upset. I love you. I really do. What, with the change of colors in the leaves and the cooling weather (usually), you're one of my favorite months. And how can you go wrong with that three day weekend you gave me at the beginning of the month. Dude, that was great. Oh, and the weekend when it rained. Killer, my friend.

But like I said, you've become too much. You've given me hellacious writer's block, you've caused turmoil in my family life, and you made me put on some weight. I didn't want to eat those Oreos, but I had no choice. You drove me to it.

I will always appreciate getting a sneak at the new Springsteen album. I will always treasure the final month of the 2007 baseball season when Sophie and I bonded while she kept track of the Indians wins and losses. For those things, I am forever grateful, September. But the writing has been on the wall for two weeks now and I insist that you leave.

Tomorrow morning when I get up, I expect you to have your things packed up and out of the house.

This isn't goodbye forever, September. But I need some time. Maybe... maybe in a year I'll be ready to see you again.

Take care of yourself, September.

One last thing. I want my "Bad English" LP back. I never said you could borrow it.



spankydav said...

I have used this song recently for my own reflection towards saying goodbye.
Thought you might be able to use it to say Goodbye to September.
It isn't the whole song, but enough to get what you need from it.

Here Comes the Flood
Peter Gabriel

When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
use up what we used to be.

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry

HomeLight said...


But, September will always be with you
no amount of Round-up
will stop you from extinguishing
her from your memory. No amount
of running away will let you forget.
She’s the month
with the first harvest moon;
the moon that pulls you back
from your fairy dancing frenzy
on that warm Midsummer’s Night;
that moon who lingers closest to the equinox
half way between warm and cold.
Her vivid question:
Did you forgot I was coming
while you were idle
sipping ice tea on the porch
spitting watermelon seeds to New York
jet skiing in the creek.
Mother Earth was moving
once again - repositioning you.
Can you feel the balance
between actively gathering, freezing and
craving for winter’s long nights of reflection?
Oh! September never leaves you
she’s brings you the fruits to what
you’ve sown under
April’s flowering moon
that now seems eons ago.
She asks: “did you plant enough
to share or are your fields barren
and full of over grown weeds?
Did you change your gardening techniques
or hold on to old ways
that never will bring peace?”
Yes, September
with her royal announcement
promises that at autumn’s equinox
cyclically, next year
you will return again to this spot
hopefully a little different
hopefully more loving.
ready to plant garlic and
spring’s daffodil bulbs.