Last Day of September

For the first time in three years I'll be home for the month of October. I wanted to celebrate early. A day early. September 30, noon. I drove out of town on I-17, to the fairgrounds. The fair was a couple weekends ago, but the revelry goes on. At one end of the park, a music festival; the other, bull riding. I strolled between the two, waiting out the hour. At 1 p.m. my daughter would be leaving ballet. "Don't be late, dad."

a mile from the
amphitheater, blues
off my back

throwing crabapples
at their kids--
two mothers

roping arena--
the pickups gather
in herds