Sunday, August 01, 2010


August

After the short bright days of Spring,
Midwestern Summer comes on quickly,
with a heavy hand pressing,
determined to prevail, lasting,
beating down, extending;

Hammering thunder grumbles overhead,
lightning skitters downward
in thinly slicing deadly lines,
late Midwestern Summer weather
stifles hauntingly with cruel rapture;

Sun-bright skies reflecting white heat,
blinding, whilst never-ending airless air
drips with moisture unrelieving,
like a solid wall, the last of Summer slams
with its own mystery of possibility;

An impossible reality of misery,
crashing rain pours furiously,
more unwelcome wetness,
sticky, with no refreshment,
simply even less air left behind;

Cycling along, its marathon event,
weeks passing with no remorse,
thundering nights roll into rumbling days,
or stark sun-hot days and still clear nights,
Midwestern Summer’s constant torment;

Into this Hell,
like a Star in the Blackened Night,
like a Light in The Abyss,
like the first Breath of Fall,
like Love in a hate-filled world,
you came.

© ACG
01 August 2010
~ for Aly