August

August burns

the grass brown

as corn tassels stretch to the sky, sentinels

guarding against fall. Sticky

hot days beg

for autumn. Sweat beads on your brow

as you laze in the pool

and the dog pants his complaint. Waves

of heat radiate on the street

and the tar bubbles and sticks

to the kid’s shoes and bike tires.

Unyielding summer simmers

and we expect it to boil

over.

I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I am working on entitled Love Letters to My Brother in Prison. 

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