At Check-out

September has packed her bags,
her timeshare ending.
With her will go the golden leaves
and the golden sunshine
of 75-degree days, the perfection
of summer-into-fall.

I stand at the threshold
so sad to see her depart.

We might wish to hurry the year out,
dispense its bad luck
in exchange for a new guest,
but September? No.
I always wish she’d extend her stay.