October

Tenth month of every year

Begins with summer’s fate

Then ends with undressed trees

Their skeletal state.

Suspended and paused.

A beautiful, false death

Asleep between the warm air of summer

and the chill of winters breath.

Branches scratch the air

Swaying dark veins of the sky

Stealing the comfort of shelter

for all the creatures that fly.

Crimson and yellow,

blanket the floor of the earth.

October, October

Will you ever know your worth?

January echoes failed resolutions.

February, cold as sin.

March, April and May hold nothing.

The next three burn the skin.

September holds sad memories

A lost parent, child or friend.

November officially makes me older.

December is an end.

October, you start with small inspiration

A few leaves on the street.

You end with masked children,

raising bags for their treats.

Is there any place in this world

Where I could retreat and run away?

The perfect spot between north and south

Where it’s October every day?

May your colors remain!

I call for the years end to wait!

Oh, how I love you tenth month.

Even though “Octo” means eight…

-Matt O’Halloran

brookLens.