August rushes by like desert rainfall,
A flood of frenzied upheaval,
But still catching me unprepared.
Like a match flame
Bursting on the scene,
Heat and haze of crimson sunsets.
Like a dream
Of moon and dark barely recalled,
Shadows caught in a blink.
Like a quick kiss;
One wishes for more
But it suddenly turns to leave,
Dragging summer away.
– Elizabeth Maua Taylor “August”
August is rushing by in its anxiousness
to be done with this summer of upheaval:
too many tears and too much tragedy.
The sky in weeping empathy
leaves a quick moist kiss on our cheeks,
It won’t last;
we know these dangling drops will fade
in the heat of the moment.
This wilted, withered summer won’t leave easy
~dragged away still kicking~
we’ll wave it goodbye, blowing our kisses in the air.