Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The Last Taste of Summer


Nature’s wheel turning, the

air heavy with water and

the smell of musty tents.

Heat stirred in a bug-fevered

dance. Bees rest lazily across

lush purple blooms, blackbirds

sing a swan’s song, radios

echo the last crack of the

baseball bat. Hammocks sigh,

cicadas drone. One more coat

of calamine across red welts.

Mothers yearn for the school

bus groan as they slip children

into new clothes. Summer skies

swell and wisteria weeps over

blistered fences. BBQ pits give

one final sizzle as these lazy

days are flung across

Autumn’s cool shoulder.



7 comments:

paisley said...

it is moments like this that make me thrilled to be here,, where winter,, really isn't winter at all...

petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

Absolutely lovely! It touches all senses!

petra michelle; Whose role is it anyway? said...

You were the first to recognize her from the poem. If you haven't seen the film "Factory Girl," a must see! Thank you for stopping by and reminding me to return!

Nathan said...

Wonderfully evocative. I really like that the "days are flung."

June said...

Such sensual stimulation...well done! I especially liked the end lines: one final sizzle as these days are flung across Autumn's cool shoulder...

jyotsana said...

hi white rose first of all what a lovely change in the blog design! i felt so happy seeing this. its really beautiful. and then thank you dear for writing such kind words for me... i read them just now on the mail and came to u to say it gave me a few moments of warmth and happiness. i am passing thru a rough phase of life i'll come back soon i'll try to be back soon amongst all of you.honestly i didnt read much on on your blog my mind isnt so calm these days but i saw it and i loved what i saw.
so much love.

Marty said...

You have a beautiful "garden" but I must tell you that I struggle to read your yellow print on the white background. Is it just my computer - or is it me?