August 18, 2010
August Reflections
August light turns in by eightand night comes early in the forestlullabiedby crickets’ chorus,shrilly sung crescendosby a choir that no one sees.
A piece of poem.Don’t know when I wrote it, but when ripened tomatoes start to sag on drying vines and shadows begin to lengthen in late afternoon, it floats through my mind, looking