September

I have nine more credits to my name
after this long summer
as I begin another three.

The school garden has grown wild
with neglect as I've left
the tangled growing things
to their own devices

I look back over my shoulder
wishing for a last swim
or salty beach walk
all those perfect nectarines.

This week I started school
the new faces mixed in with the old
as we try to learn each other
at the beginning of this long journey
marked by clean erasers and empty
notebooks

There is so much possibility.

I promise myself I'll be endlessly patient
keep my desktop neat
find the pathway for each girl I teach
so they fall in love with reading.

By November, these intentions will probably
be knotted like our tomato vines

But this is September

I hang up the note Teya wrote me
the second day of school
the one with almost every word spelled right
and the heart at the bottom
with the word you inside.
Because I helped her through a sichuashon.

This will be my sustenance
after a long day
remind me of the possibility
of September.