August

Written by: jan oskar hansen

August 

The massive heat which paralyzed any thought of going 
outside during the day, the heat was as a huge military 
blanket glued to the body like skin of grief, wars fought 
for no gain other than the knowledge that new masters 
who promised peace and freedom, will renege first thing 
when safely in power as sure as August will return. 
The September evening is soft and gentle as lover´s sigh 
the breeze is cooling wooden telephone poles, it is now 
possible to ring without hearing the crackling of agony of 
sap dripping dowels. The voices of people eating their 
meal on terraces and porches are like forgotten a tune 
remembered; this, a moment to be cherished when rain 
and fog comes and turns the village into gloom and we´ll
 under our umbrellas say:” August wasn´t that awful.”