An Augusty Eve
This September,
The night full of
Buzz and chirp
Under a dazzling sky;
Summer Triangle, the Dippers,
A beautiful breeze
Catches my shoulder
Then blows off my sleeve.
Provocative, but not really,
It’s the way it should be:
No sleeves,
Bodies flowing
A summertime flow;
One more night
Before arms
must
be
covered,
And feet too;
A chilly air
Will close doors
And my shoulder
Will go away-
But not tonight.
The warm breeze
And my free skin
Under this gentle air
tumbling
down,
along
arms
and
bare
legs,
Then finding the ground.
And you?
Somewhere watching?
Letting the air
Touch me,
Touch me now;
While you,
You imagine much later-
Do you start at my hair?
Touching it gently
before
continuing
down?
Or do you take notes
From the breeze,
The gentle warm breeze,
And brush off my sleeve
before
tumbling
down?
Or maybe you don’t;
Instead you just turn,
Turn a brisk turn,
Like the cold draft,
That we all must know.
Read more from Hawkins DeKoskie
~ And Poetry After Dark
