October

October is when fall starts falling
further and further into winter.
The weather's nice, here in Arizona,
in October, in this October. I hear this every year,
and every year it gets sweeter to hear
from a neighbor, from a co-worker,
from a wife, from a child, from the guy
waiting at the bus stop, from the smiling lady
in the apron, moving closer and closer to you.
After she says the weather's nice
and after you say the weather's nice
she asks if you want french fries or
potato wedges, and what kind of dressing
for the salad?  Italian, blue cheese, or ranch?
Those are the options.

There's nothing like the agreement,
the simplicity, the shared experience
that October brings.

There's nothing like
giving voice to the way we feel
about something so primal:
"It's beautiful out here."

There's nothing like
The acknowledgement of the air
that surrounds us, and the wind
that presses against our bodies
as we talk, seated on the patio,
at the end of another day.

We're not in this thing alone.