just before august ends

Today is another beautiful summer day.

Amelia and Aven change directly from nightgowns

into swimming suits and we pack the car effortlessly.

It is the end of summer and I don't even have to think 

about where towels or water bottles are.  Our days

have become streamlined; garden, river, campground, lake;

by the end of August I feel so graceful

in our happy summer orbit.  

In a week this all will shift into something else.

I am telling myself several different versions

of what this fall will look like.  I see myself running alone

puffs of breath made white by cold mornings,

I see myself in the campus library, 

my laptop and flourescent lights.  I see the yellow

school bus pulling up to our driveway as I watch

through a frosty windshield as my girl climbs

the steps and disappers. 

We've talked about changes

the last few days.  What it will feel

like to walk into new classrooms,

meet new teachers.  We talk about

being afraid 

to leap into the new.

I wake in the middle of the night

and feel this longing,

but I'm not sure 

for what.

There is something so lovely

and heartbreaking in this time

of year.