September is strange. We put on it a newness it has not earned, due to a dominant academic ordering of the year. From a seasonal perspective, it’s pretty long in the tooth, well into the third quarter of a spent calendar. At best, it is “middle aged,” as one might euphemistically (and charitably) call someone pushing past 50.
But the changing air and bright seasonal colors combine with a rebooted schedule to create a month with a fresh wardrobe, like those fresh faced students high-fiving their friends as they get off the bus. This new school year brings even fresher meaning for me personally as I am only one month into a new job that also happens to be at a school.
My first couple weeks at work all was relatively quiet, the calm before the proverbial storm. Then two weeks ago, faculty arrived for in-service, then last week the kiddos. And that’s when the air came to life, the old building bursting with new color like the first showy leaves of an early Autumn.
And so we’re back, me and my muses, to greet another month of inspiration. September at All Nine will be all about this idea of “back to school” or “starting over.” We’ll look at poems by other poets that explore this idea of newness, and we’ll write some ourselves.
For example, here’s a poem I wrote several years ago that captures many of the images that make up, for me, this back to school time:
Late summer paint box
spilling messy with yellows:
squash, sea grass, fresh corn,
lost leaf lingering by bark;
showy sunflower, school buses.
Goldenrod runs the
full length of September, while
pale pregnant moon
waits heavily for first frost.
August abandoned in a blaze.
What looks/smells/tastes/feels like September, like back to school, like starting over to you? Tell us in the comments here, or drop a line (firstname.lastname@example.org). Let’s get started… again!