Casablanca in October

The heat lets go all at once,
the way a held breath does.

Down by the corniche the light
comes in at the angle it keeps
for exactly three weeks.

I have made this a metaphor
for readiness, for the moment
a long preparation becomes a thing done.

It is not that. It is October.
The city is indifferent and beautiful
and does not require the comparison.

I make it anyway, and walk home,
and start.