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#augury #august #autumn #fall #poem #poetry #restless #september #summer
Published: 2018-09-03 20:36:35 +0000 UTC; Views: 187; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 0
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Description
The last day of August hoversagainst a membrane, water
exhaling into beads.
It never happens all at once
the way the words suggest;
hours stretch to fill their spaces,
quietly bickering and bartering in even strides as they pass.
Moments stack into well-oiled months,
but the wheel always catches right before September (muffled
gears shake free the debris
and tick true).
Summer's song is water, beginning with snow and ice
and ending in sunlight.
Autumn promises wind on the other side of the glass
and as chill ripples eddy down to the fingers,
a new song buzzes in the blood of the restless.








