POETRY

Early

Written early, shared late!

instant film photo by author

As a surprise, August decided to turn in early this year,
capitulating after a worthy effort to incinerate us all.
The mornings unexpectedly wear a shawl of dew,
perfumed with autumn. Greening descends,
resurrecting what was almost lost to weeks of
triple digit fire. Cracks mend. Doves line up on the
fence, fat and fiesty, unknowingly staring down their
season on the horizon. The earth turns on its lathe
axis: wobble baby wobble.
We all clap our hands.

I wrote this poem when August delighted us a few weeks ago with cooler weather, and I figured I should share it with you now before the season moves on too much! Thank you, readers!