AugustA Poem by Lydia Blackwell...August The strangled grass of August bends low in its' dormancy conversing with the brittle earth. Their talk is coarse and wan and self indulgent. Wasps look for water in the eyes of flowers for the heart is all tapped out. Like sucking stones, their disappointment turns them sour. What is real in this haze of humid air and the sun's intimate gaze? One loving look and we are blackened by the brush One loving look and we are put in our place. Dry cars, lope down dry streets kissing the hot road with their rubbery smell. People walk and wander aimlessly lost and floating from their heated dreams of sleeplessness- senseless and un-driven in the day. L.Blackwell 8/14/2010 © 2010 Lydia BlackwellAuthor's Note
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11 Reviews Added on August 30, 2010 Last Updated on August 30, 2010 AuthorLydia BlackwellPittsburgh, PAAboutI have been writing since I was a young girl. I love to write because when I describe something in detail, it helps me remember the way things looked and felt. Sometimes, your memories are all that yo.. more..Writing
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