August
August like a sullen glance
You’re having too much fun
Do continue bear in mind
While summer comes undone
August brang the summers eve
So subtle yet decided
Cleaved as were a maiden fair
The middle year divided
A wind of change how hot and dry
A new way taking hold
Of packing up and putting down
And turning out the old
A breath of new life here there
Scant amid the falling
Tumbling death across the plain
The songbird never calling
August wakes the sky at dusk
Streamers all amiss
A hunter on the east horizon
Seeks the dawning bliss
Copyright © Mike Martin 2015
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