August In Japan Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

August is the cruelest month
With its high pressure fronts
And rainless days
And the heat that stays
Like penniless relatives
Well beyond their welcome.

Summer is the summit of my discontent.
Pleasant weather teases me from September
Where it holds autumn hostage
And watches as I toss and turn in my sweaty bed.

These trials I must bear
Until the earth tilts
And the winds shift
And blue skies no longer signify white heat.

So let the temperature rise.
Let the humidity stick.
I will sit at my desk and pretend
That this fan is not the only thing that stands
Between the summer and my sanity.