Possessing boundless and stifling tropical tenacity,
August rules with a slumbery and self-satisfied grip.
A season of glutinous greenery, of tangled brush,
choking vines and smothering leafy shade, it blusters
with thunder and lulls us with hazy skies and cloying
humidity that sets the skin aglow. Hypnotically
clicking crickets and dank, swampy fragrances of soil
and foliage leave us drunken in a private vegetable
lethargy.
Along roadsides, tired grasses grow raggedy,
and the heavy evening air is occasionally enlivened
with the whir of a few sentinel geese winging south.
Oak leaf edges curl brown. Maples flash
seductive patches of color. Fern clusters
are bronzed as if bitten by frost, and the luxuriant
fabric of summer begins to fade and fray,
slowly releasing its grasp and slipping away
unnoticed.
