The first of the season

is met with excitement

The air fills with an aroma that can only be described as

the smell of the first of the season

It begins by coming once every couple weeks

But as September rolls on

It is expected with each passing week

Still a bit of excitement and comfort

comes with each day that it falls

Drifting off to sleep with the sound of it

tapping outside your window still eases you

As October comes

Less attention is paid

It becomes ordinary

As soon as the excitement

for the first of the year came

That same excitement is gone

It’s just dark, all the time

The temperature drops

The nights lengthen

The drops thicken

The recycling of the year

brings the possibility of

the mundane becoming extraordinary

the clear becoming white

There is only

one maybe two

days where it solidifies

Then it just

turns right back

To rain