Sell Me September

I'll trade in the heatwaves,
the humid days,
the going-no-place vacation stays
when it's too hot to do anything
but laze about.
I'm ready for summer to head out.
Give me a scarf for the chill
and a bonfire when the air is still.
Pour me a pint of cider.
Put me in my element; I'm a writer.

Sell me your magic golden hours,
your fields of wildflowers,
your orchards at harvest time.
I want to roam them like they're mine.

Show me color-changing forest views.
Give me a harvest moon.
Hum me a haunting tune.
September, I'll see you soon.