Self-Indulgence

An insinuation of autumn slices
through the rhetoric of late-summer rain,

the women wind-tossed and baptized
clutching fluttering umbrellas and skirts,
bequeathed each her fractionalized thimble-full
of September’s puddling beauty.

I espy myself wanly reflected in a wall of glass
in mute reminder of my finitude and fragility.

Me, me, me.