I don’t know what about September it is that makes me think not like me. It seems September lends a new dimension to my mind’s eye. It’s that time when monsoon passes the baton to winter. Rain washed thoughts struggle for some Sun, and a little prayer to a rare bright fading day escapes me, wishing the evening lingered a bit more on the photos on my wall. Sunset and a wandering mind … how can anyone be averse to a verse…

Go slow

Sept ember glow

there’s still time

for the Sun to walk past.

There’s still light in the sky

and the stars

not in a hurry for the show.

Read them before they fade

tales

the brown of my eyes

the bow of my brows behold.

Go slow

Sept ember glow

there’s still blue in the sky

and the tide

not in a hurry for the storm.

Go slow

Sept ember glow

may the silky dusk

golden my wall of fame

and the sepia

not in a hurry to steal a wink.

If this were to fit in a haiku…

sunset swept pictures

September glow on my wall

one more fading day

How else does a cyclone-hit heart do it with a haiku!

September, if not anything teaches us to break into verse and haiku.

Happy week and happy soul con versing!