HEAT urges secret odors from the grass.
Blunting the edge of silence, crickets shrill.
Wings veer: inane needles of light, and pass.
Laced pools: the warm wood-shadows ebb and fill.
The wind is casual, loitering to crush
The sun upon his palate, and to draw
Pungence from pine, frank fragrances from brush,
Sucked up through thin grey boughs as through a straw.
Moss-green, fern-green and leaf and meadow-green
Are broken by the bare, bone-colored roads,
Less moved by stirring air than by unseen
Soft-footed ants and meditative toads.
Summer is passing, taking what she brings:
Green scents and sounds, and quick ephemeral wings.
Read by Alan Davis-Drake
Photo by Mama Lisa
This article was posted on Wednesday, August 8th, 2012 at 12:22 pm and is filed under Babette Deutsch, English, Languages, MP3's of Poems, Poems, Poems about August, Poems about Smells, Poetry, Poetry about Summer, Poetry about the Seasons, Poets, Recordings, Recordings of Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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