Rhonda Baker

The birth of August is upon us, as the fair haired sun rises in the sky
With songs of the cicada unwinding, the sand hill Cranes sail by
The heat is hoovering all around us, we feel heavy in it's grip
To break free from it's bonds, from it's clutches we must rip
Shade gives little relief, to this melting, bending soul
A river full of water, is not enough to quench this foe
Only darkness breaks the curse, that the day could not hide
Relief is but short...and that too must subside
For August is just arriving, her journey's just begun
It's only just beginning; her moment in the sun