The September of My 45th Year

And so it begins.
The September of my 45th year
christened beneath a blue moon
and coyote song; a sacred occasion
deserving something more than
to be dithered away.
So my only son and I will
sail north to watch the boys
of summer play the purest game,
the one whose goal is SAFE AT HOME.
Beneath lights we think surround but
more often enshroud, we’ll feast on
ballpark dogs as time takes an
abrupt bite out of my heart.

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8 Comments

  1. hisfirefly on September 1, 2012 at 12:42 pm

    Safe at home indeed! Lovely words here and a wonderful welcome to autumn.

  2. Kelly Hausknecht Chripczuk on September 1, 2012 at 1:03 pm

    September of my 35th year. The blue moon that isn’t blue, tiger mosquitos ferociously sucking my blood, the twins learning to walk and falling all around, like leaves. The balance tips toward fall and winter beyond. I’m torn between leaning into it and holding on with all my might. Ready or not, here we come. One more round of the bases as we all head toward home.
    http://afieldofwildflowers-kellys.blogspot.com/

  3. consolationofmirth on September 1, 2012 at 1:29 pm

    “…as time takes an abrupt bite out of my heart.” Oh, my gracious. Mercy! Isn’t that it, though?
    (happy birthday month)

  4. Diana Trautwein on September 1, 2012 at 3:47 pm

    Enjoy those franks and the lights, too. But mostly, be safe at home, friend. And believe me – please, please believe me – 45 is the best year and takes you right on into the best decade and a half. You – thank God – have a long ways to go.

  5. Carol Owens on September 1, 2012 at 4:16 pm

    Poignant and sweet.

  6. annkroeker on September 1, 2012 at 7:38 pm

    This is the September of my 45th year, too, John. Christened under cloud cover releasing light rain and mist that has since strengthened to rain showers. And in my home, someone has needed extra care. On this first day of September of my 45th year, I am reminded of both how fragile and how hardy we are, and how every day we could so easily break…and, in time, mend.

  7. David Blase on September 2, 2012 at 1:46 pm

    In the September of my 45th year you were 18 and your brother was 15. I was feeling much like you are feeling this month! Just think of all the ‘living’ that we have done since then!
    Dad

  8. Mark on September 3, 2012 at 6:05 pm

    I was going to comment on the beautiful due you gave to a game whose ultimate reward is to come in safe at home, but then I see your father beat me to it. Makes me teary-eyed.

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