The First of September

So what do I write on this first day

of this new month, September, this

almost autumn?

Do I write about how the garden

is nearly exhausted?

Do I write about how the leaves

are already beginning to turn?

Do I write about my dad, born in this month,

whose favorite color was red,

whose favorite flower was the American Beauty Rose,

whose favorite season was autumn?

Do I write about his strong, freckled hands,

or his neat-nick habits

or his quick mind

or his laugh that filled rooms

or his clever sense of humor?                  

Or do I write about the cooler nights

and the shorter days

and how death is coming for us all?

This is linked to dVerse Poets' Pub for their open link night.