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October Boy

Like dry leaves riding an autumn gust,
you wooshed your way into the world,
out of my body and into your life.

October shimmered outside, cider-sweet,
fragrant with longing and expectation.
Black hair flowing, lungs roaring,

you announced your arrival then
nestled in my arms, at peace,
briefly.

Black changed to red,
copper-curls and blue-sky eyes,
apple-bright and lantern-like,

greeting the clowns and goblins of your life
with a sculpted grin, ever-ready
for fright and delight.

And I came to love those eyes,
that laughed and cringed and welled and flared,
that flickered and faded and blazed again.

My October Boy,
the storms are past.
Now you lean toward train whistles in the night,

Geese beckoning on the wind,
the spell of a hunter's moon,
the snap of a crackling life.

October Boy,
as you sprint toward November, might I hum
a May-song in your ear,

soothe your urgent sprint
with a gentler tune?
Both seasons are bountiful

to be sure,
but only spring holds enough promise
for one as dazzling as you.

Learn more about this author, Cynthia Bagley.
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