That One Sunday, in August ’94, When Nature said, “Nature says.”

Heat rises from your supine body
like vapor-stream watercolors, translucent.
The little death threatens to take us home,
where colder comforts lie.
Before then we lie under the consummate shade
of high-boughed oaks.
Like a rope swing, low and loose,
hair catching leaf bits and broken acorn.
A late summer breeze blankets us.
Afternoon sunlight beyond the trees.

That One Sunday, in August ’94, When Nature said, “Nature says.”

3 thoughts on “That One Sunday, in August ’94, When Nature said, “Nature says.”

  1. creamy charcoal says:

    This is some of the best poetry I’ve read in some time.

    “The little death threatens to take us home,
    where colder comforts lie.”

    Sometimes it does feel like this is all there is to live for.

    Liked by 1 person

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