September

Staying up, outlast the dark,
With no alarm or bell to ring.
Our kisses kept back to themselves
as morning glories, too early up.

Autumn lies, awaits in ambush,
Ash trees swaying evening breeze,
Tightly leaves cling hold to branches
At each parting path tells time.

We are lost two miles from our house,
Memories only take us home.
The thorny gloves release their grip
And summer gives way to the wind.

In these minutes, seasons turned
and in each others' gaze of pools,
cast aside the lake's amnesia,
and kissed upon the bridge as fools.