Indian Summer

This fall has been a series
of false starts.

I pack my window ac unit away
just to drag it out in the middle of the sticky night
when I can’t stand the heat.

I take your name out of my phone
and add it in again
when I decide I don’t want to give up on us
after all.

I breathe a sigh of relief
every time I fix a problem and say
“wow I am glad that is finished.”
As if problems are solved once and then leave you forever.
As if they don’t continue to come around.

Maybe it’s a sign, that this summer heat won’t go away.
Maybe it is stubborn just like my need to pack up too soon.

I wish the Farmer’s Almanac would tell me what this means.
I wish the Farmer’s Almanac would tell me when and how and why.

All I know is that this is our Indian summer
we keep going on and on
and I am ready for it to just be fall.