August Is The Dying Month Poem by Wanda Swim Strunk
August Is The Dying Month
August is the dying month
When hot July struggles to keep her hold
Moving toward a hopeless chilled September
Pretending to be summer
As if children heading back to school stir the cold from the sky
It is a refined deceiver
August is a butterfly crushed on a roadway
One side dead to the pavement
The other is still vibrantly flutteringly alive
Fighting to fly away but it’s fate is already sealed
It is a delicate executioner
August is the month colors trickle from trees
A first leaf unnoticed tumbles
Sheepishly the others will shortly follow
Shamefully they will drift to the ground
It is a subtle destroyer
August is 6 PM
The disillusion of a day realized
Dinners to be eaten alone
Murky dark mixes with the daylight
Spitting out gloomy gray
It is a sophisticated betrayer
August is the death rattle
Demise by means of a Fall
Stealing gaped mouth last breaths
Swallowing everything into its earth
Coughing back a cold winter in return.
A must read a second and third tine and then again! swallowing....like the illusion very much!
You make great use of imagery in your poems - children stirring the cold out of the sky; the butterfly as refined deceiver. I like the use of the single line as heading to each stanza.
Wow, I've read alot of poems about fall/autumn but never one like this Wanda! What a picture you paint here. Great poem. (But, I still love August!) :) Sincerely, Mary
usually i love autumn, but this year the passing of summer has been like watching a good friend die. fantastic poem! Jake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/6/2024 8:36:03 PM # 1.0.0
One of the best poems I've read lately. Brava.