September greets me with intricate webs Woven diagonally from the gutter to the porch rail. Last night, silken spellcasters launched A veil of protection over my home To catch the summer's last mosquitos for breakfast. Eating my breakfast, I gaze into the morning fog, Wondering if I had eight magic hands, what would I catch? And could I hold onto it? And for how long? The gutter web. It disappears As quickly as it came.