Melancholy August

Summer is subsiding. August's come,
And, with it, an unasked-for deviation
From the searing heat. The corn is
Prescient, turning yellow first, before
The other plants. I mourn the shorter,
Mild days. I long to sweat again,
And curse as I search vainly for
A swimming pool, a patch of shade.
The savagery of summer suits me,
Donna. I know you like autumn.
Almost everybody does. You all
Will be excited when the weather cools,
And you can drink your cocoa by
A fireplace. You'll put more blankets
On your beds, take walks outside
To see the leaves, and snuggle
In the evenings with your cats.
I am not fond of cats, nor do I find
A lot to like about insipid autumn
People. I'll drink scotch while you
Sip cocoa, sneer at falling leaves
And rain, and glumly wait out
All the months which loom before
This dying season comes to life again.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 43 times
Written on 2021-08-30 at 17:09

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