Saturday, July 23, 2011

These Days

These days in August have come
with their layer of crickets
droning forever
in a way that is like silence
of a temporary bereavement.

An overhead fan
whirs like a Calypso in the breeze
while Smokey tempers
my skin with the brine of his warm licks

relieving the days
of wait moving on
as they will
to the returning sound of crickets.

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