Cruising these residential Sunday
streets in dry August sunlight:
what offends us is
the houses in pedantic rows, the planted
sanitary trees, assert
levelness of surface like a rebuke
to the dent in our car door.
No shouting here, or
shatter of glass; nothing more abrupt
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
When my eyes are weeds,
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has beginning
Where the crumpled beeches start
In a fringe of salty reeds;
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward through my heart;
Summer, do your worst!
I was seventy-seven, come August,
I shall shortly be losing my bloom;
I've experienced zephyr and raw gust
And (symbolical) flood and simoom.
When you come to this time of abatement,
To this passing from Summer to Fall,
It is manners to issue a statement
As to what you got out of it all.
The sun drops luridly into the west;
darkness has raised her arms to draw him down
before the time, not waiting as of wont
till he has come to her behind the sea;
and the smooth waves grow sullen in the gloom
and wear their threatening purple; more and more
the plain of waters sways and seems to rise
convexly from its level of the shores;
and low dull thunder rolls along the beach:
there will be storm at last, storm, glorious storm.
Pink, gold and purple
at the verge of baby blue
Soft, twilight birdsong
in the glow of green fireflies
Weary day gives way
to cool night's diamonds and pearls
and pervading scents
Lush evening, dripping colors
through the dim hallway
to bright blaze of better days
and all are feeling warmth's touch
in sweet summer's glaze
sultry, rich August
when the roses are teeming
The fields are bursting
and jaded trees await fate,
among crowding blooms.
Moonlit nights attract mauve dreams.
The lusty year has ripened.
Gold bounces off sidewalks, and there's color on the trees,
Emerald hills are grassy and there's warmth in the breeze,
Red robin plays, and the blue jays have been flying all day,
While dragonflies frequent the pond in glad jeweled display!
Soon marmalade sun sits on a hill, honeybees are buzzing,
And romantic lovers in the park, ever so often are hugging,
The huge moon rises full, completely framed by green lace,
And blooms are August deep, in the late summer's embrace!
Perfume permeates August evening air,
Summer's abloom within night's shadow,
Deep purple gloom basks in moonlight,
And twinkling stars consume the skies,
Beauty eternally stalks night's room.