... country ..., ... moon ..., ... night ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... sleep ..., ... summer ..., ... the South ...

summer is groaning Old

the trees hung heavy last
night as i wandered through
a midnight field. the moon

cast a dulled silver sheet over
the mists and grasses and
trees. the light was pale

and tired – drained by
the heat. the trees bent
heavily towards the ground,

anxious to shed their bulky
green summer skins. they
groaned in anticipation of

another winter spent naked
in the cold winds. the sound
of the katydids and the

crickets was muffled by the
rising haze as heat stored in
the soil was released, like

a giant sigh from a world
settling into long night’s sleep.
summer’s tired bones ached.


2 thoughts on “summer is groaning Old

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