When you’re a little kid and have a lifetime ahead of you, time crawls by at the rate of a slug with a headwind. When you approach the end of that long curve, it matches the speed of light. Not fair for it to be September, but the only thing we can do is sip our coffee and write poems.
Thanks to all who made weeds a busy subject that not only drew a lot of poems but comments as well. Now it’s time to wipe off the slate and begin anew. For September, let the word be light. Go!