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# Grill
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/grill/
- Published: 2026-09-01T16:13:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T20:05:18.000Z
- Description: “Grill,” a capture of the first day of September hailing the coming of darkness blues, written Tuesday, September 01, 2026 poem 244 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. PPhoto: "Meats on a Weber," by Diana Ludwick © 2026.
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: 2026 Poetry Challenge, Dry Humor, Faux Lament, Humor, Loosely Hinged, Poems, Unserious, Changing Seasons, Fall is Coming, Grate, Grill, Heat, Hot Dogs, Humidity, Late Summer, Sausage, Season, September, Summer, #Migrated-1792872215677, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-10-24 20:03

September slinks forward before I’m ready.  
The end of summer evades detection.  
It pressurizes slowly, gaining pace   
only in the waning days of August,   
which brings its will-stopping miasma   
of code orange soupy drenched air   
into the coming calendar sheet.  
  
A magma-hot smoked sausage link,  
the month that steamrolls autumn into our lives  
rolls toward my unguarded belly.  
Threatening to go aerial,   
the new month is a taut tube steak,   
its smooth-with-steam exterior   
cartwheeling over the char-singed grate,   
aiming to escape the swim club’s gas Weber.  
  
September brings darker mornings,   
and with it, earlier evenings,   
more hectic social calendars,   
and the promise of some form of explosion:  
emotional, social, mental, physical.   
  
I am in denial;   
I close my eyes.  
"Wake me up When September ends,"  
I say, summoning my best Billy Joe Armstrong.