about August

August has me a little disconcerted.

It demands so much letting go.

I might have worn my swimsuit for the last time.

And I've just about given up watering my flowers.

Grilling out has lost its appeal.

On August nights the whir of cicadas and creaking of crickets
re-creates a tiny childhood panic: school around the corner.

Which I hated. Loved learning, but hated school.

Some of you will understand that.

As happened today, the summer heat begins to fade

and in skips a cool hint of autumn.

In about six weeks, I will enjoy walks in the woods like this ...

That will be mighty nice.

These days I'm not headed to school.
But our daughter, the youngest, will soon head to college.

Embarrassingly, I hang around her room,

curling up on her bed to read while she works and packs.
Holding on to her, to summer.

Does any other mother do this?

Before me lies autumn, my sabbatical-like season of

 closet-cleaning,

painting,

organizing,

reading and writing.

But no arithmetic.