August


August should be about

backyards,

vivid sunsets on humid nights,

and cicadas singing in

meadows of yellow

and purple flowers.


August should be about

sticky skin,

thunderstorms from the front porch,

and leaves that are greener

than they’ve ever

been before.


August should be about

last hurrahs,

condensation on a refilled glass,

and holding tighter

to another summer come

and almost gone.



/poems/