A Poem for Magictober

I’m fond of the impolite gust
That the first of October brings.
That chill that creeps across your skin
Like a sly smile and a sideways glance
I want in on that adventure
I want to be up to something
October is my month
Of up to somethings
It unfolds like so much
mischief
Like the wonder of
Maybe just believing for awhile

The heavy shuffles off,
And settles to the ground
And in its going
glows with new color
I can marvel at and glory in
And let go
Unencumbered
Giddy somewhere deep
With the stir
Of as yet unrecognized
Possibilities

Yes,
This is a magic I can believe in
Because who knows
In this month of days
That open like gifts
Who knows
What the gust
Will bring?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s