August (a poem)
Written August 1, 2023
August
Feels like fish frying at noon
All the time
Swooning under a golden orb
beautiful
relentless
power and might
outside our reach
but we feel it’s touch
August
Sights of kids at the bus stop
early morning routines renewed
kisses on foreheads
fingers on cheeks
love in my heart
sighs
rolled eyes
goodbyes
August
Tastes like cool water with a twist of lemon
fresh cut tomatoes
a pinch of salt
blueberries from Grandmas front yard
jam made from her hands
as I sat
quiet
looking on
August
Sounds like laughter on the porch
bees buzzing past
flies trying to get the glass
the clink of it
against the table
lemonade
sweet tea
against my lips
August
Inhale sweet Kool-Aid julips
ones my mother made
the scent of mayonnaise
a slice of bologna
held between wheat bread
the smell of the Genesee river
polluted yet mighty
warm Rochester summer days
August
-Bernette Sherman
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