August

James Long
Jun 16, 2023
1 min read

How many Augusts my love?

80 or so, I hear

All just as hot, none like the last

But finite and fleeting as dandelion fluff

Let the heat have it's way with us then

Stay a while on the grass in my arms

And hold the world in its flushed noon tide bloom

Our autumn will come

In it's own quiet way

But let's not yield up a moment too soon

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