September

I lower my eyes to avoid the bright glare of the sun, casting the world in its golden glow as it dips towards the horizon

Drowsily I watch as rainbows dance on my eyelashes, playing like children in the warmth of the evening

My bag stowed beneath my seat, hiding yellow and red leaves like bits of flame between the pages of my notebook

The same leaves that flutter in the gentle yet cool breeze, that dance on the wind and crunch beneath booted feet

As I leave the bus, I pull my jacket on again, lest the slight chill in the air make its way up my spine

And with the sights and sounds and smells of September enveloping me, its hard to forget

Why I always choose fall as my favourite season.