october will be here tomorrow,

or two days,

half a week early but already too late,

outpaced by the cold,

outflanked by the frost.

we have seen it all too early:

the bundles, the blankets, the shuffling shoes;

shirt sleeves give way to jackets and fleece;

hands find their way into pockets;

the sun does not shine like it’s supposed to anymore.

i remember a month ago when i first saw my breath—

woke up one morning, walked out the door,

and there it was.

it was just novelty act,

and we lost it for awhile. we forgot.

we went back to sandals and shorts and open windows

and bags of ice for $2.99 to cool our drinks.

how quickly we forget how easily things are broken.

summer fades and leaves change color,

and it is cold now when the sun finally sets.