They write songs about New York City in the fall. Jean jacket weather. Burning bushes. And Central Park. Ah. Don’t tell me about the polar vortex. I can’t hear you. La. La. La.
Tag: autumn
It Must Be October
I feel old.
It must be October.
It must be the pumpkin-flavored everything.
I am no longer pumpkin-flavored.
I am nutmeg. Nutty.
I see my reflection in the subway window.
I think,
“I need Botox.”
I am becoming
invisible – like all the New York belles, wrinkled, made up,
inevitable.
I don’t care – and then
I start singing –
“I don’t care. I love it.”
I am silly, happy. humming to myself on the subway.
I am not yet that creeping cold November.
I am still this playful hot October.
In the beginning of the autumn month.
I am still jumping in a pile of leaves, singing songs to and of myself.
It must be October.
I don’t care.
I love it.
Related articles
- Rolling in Pumpkin (ottbeerguy.wordpress.com)
- This poem inspired me A Pep Talk for October
- The Daily Prompt: Symmetry This was today’s assignment: Start every line with the same letter.
- Another Fall Writing Retreat – in the Adirondacks
Foggy
This morning, I felt I lived in San Francisco as I walked in Riverside Park. The fog made everything quiet.
The muted fall colors and the sun somewhere behind the fog made me feel so good. So peaceful.
There is something sad, inevitable, beautiful about autumn in New York.
Maybe the bittersweet beauty is the reason writers write songs about New York this time of year. 
100 Days of Poems and Pics 