Threshold of October
At the threshold of October,the closets echo with readiness.September dissolved like mist,leaving behind the soft hush of empty shelves.Now, the breeze carries a new pulse —bright, golden, unhurried.Groceries arrive like offerings.Not just sustenance, but rhythm.A cycle begins again,and the kitchen listens.Let the first apple placed on the shelfbe a prayer.Let the oat jar hum with…