Late September

I step outside
And the coolness
Of the late September air
Surrounds me like a blanket
And reminds me of the nights
We would go out to the shed
To listen to the band play
And drink beer
And attempt to smoke cigarettes
And the night we drove to the field
Behind St. Greg's
Covered in sleeping bags and blankets
The bed of a red Chevy
Became my safe place
And my home
I found something I was good at
And someone who needed me
And I was content
It's nights like this
That I miss him