Albert Ahearn

August - Poem by Albert Ahearn

I need not a fine calendar
To identify the present month;
With all its entire splendor
Will not be found on a twelvemonth.
If one lives in tune with nature
There are always some clues at hand:
Like a hound on a fox’s spoor
Indications he understands.
A rivers edge recedes and slows
The pear trees host the birds and bees
Catnip begins to decompose
And acorns fall from large oak trees.
Countless hints a man can trust
The four above claim its August.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about August by Albert Ahearn

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 29, 2010

[Report Error]