It has come. The weather shifts
magically from rain to dry
and fortunes trickle down our lives
like rolling stones.
A Khmer fashions his name
to Odom Rolex for auspicious times,
expansive as the stirrings of September.
My farmer neighbor rants through
his intoxication on a calm evening;
yet in the glare of sun or glaze of rain
he holds the earth in his firm hand
and mutters hope and desire.
There is something about September
that we feel movements
even beyond emotions and ideas;
a sense of raising the tempo of our dance
with life, catching exhilarations
from scents, scanning the sky
where a beautiful swan may come
02 September 2010
Koh Kong, Cambodia