Ticks and tocks begin their tilt
as time pushes back
in September.
*
Long days fall, one atop the other,
sleepily entwined;
a sudden halt.
*
Across Autumn’s spindle,
Summer coils to wind
around the hour
*
Now fibers neatly thread,
waiting to be woven
into October.
*
By Celaine Charles
The Reluctant Poet 