October is the Place

October is the place you curl up in bed
with a mug of hot chocolate in the rain,
and the leaves fall like the rain outside the window.

The room is cold like rain,
but the blankets keep you warm
except for your nose and fingertips,
which are cold and stay cold
despite the mug in your hands
and the steam rising to warm your nose
as you gently blow into the cup,
hoping not to burn your tongue.

October is the place you walk
where the sky is as blue as it can be,
and it calls you to come out and play,
but you are shackled to your computer
until the darkness hits you between the eyes
when you finally look up at 6 pm.

The room is dark, and you light the lamps,
their golden light not as golden as the sun,
or the yellow tulip trees in the blue, blue sky,
and the work that you did that day
will never equal the time you lost to its demands.

October is the place all the things
you haven’t done in your lifetime
come crashing down on your shoulders
like storm-driven waves above your head,
and where the heaviness of water
as it bears you to the sand
is surprising in its force.

But you still get up with saltwater in your mouth,
and wipe your eyes,
then laugh and wade out yet again,
a little wiser and a little more cautious than the last time.

October is the place you realize you’ve lost a lot of ground
waiting in the entry hall
for someone to pick you up and carry you where you need to be,
and you start to pull on your boots
but give up in disgust
when you find they are now too small.

So you sit on the bench and wait and wait
until finally, you realize that no one is coming,
and to get there at all you will have to walk,
putting one naked foot in front of the other
for as long as it takes.

October is the place the world might end,
where the earth seems flat enough to reach the edge and fall,
as people will from a high place
when they haven’t been careful
or paid attention to their footing.

October is a long hallway leading to another room,
one you’ve never seen before,
where the furniture is unfamiliar and sometimes uncomfortable,
but you still know it is home, and unavoidable,
and you still have a little time to kill.