August

August is a sadist
flaunting flowering love
everywhere. Wisps of grass
smell, pungent whipping the
memories back into me; the green
and the hot, the sweat and the songs.
The distance of that August is too
many years now. My eyes water, not
from ragweed.

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2 Comments

  1. Poignant..a nice write.

    Reply
  1. NaPoWriMo – Day 4 – “The Truth In The Triviality” by David Ellis | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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