Gershon Wolf Poet Couplet

Breathless

       Tentative steps beyond my front door
         Ten or twelve at most, can’t go more
       Not boldly either, but taken timidly
         No match for the heat and humidity

      The skies’ brightest hue is haze
          The air shimmers as if dazed
       Blades of grass wither and wilt
          Lawn after lawn a dying brown quilt

       Thirty-one days without a breath
          O, August, your badge is death

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sara Etgen-Baker August 17, 2025 at 4:47 PM you've certainly captured the exhausting feel and look of August. Everything here struggles in the heat. The humidity is the worst! Faving Gershon Wolf August 17, 2025 at 7:41 PM I'll accept a fave any day of the week, Sara. Thank you so much. Here's to some cool air, Gershon

Joseph P. DiMino August 17, 2025 at 1:21 PM Likewise in New York, I here, sweltering this year. Very well expressed! Oppressing read!~ I mean, the sense of overpowering humidity invoked:) Great writing! Gershon Wolf August 17, 2025 at 7:42 PM Humidity humbles us all. Whoa. This summer is a rough one.

Rowena Velasco August 17, 2025 at 9:28 AM Powerful write, Gershon—your words made me feel the heat! Gershon Wolf August 17, 2025 at 7:44 PM I'll have to write a Winter poem to cool you off, Rowena. Take care, Gershon

Regina Elliott August 17, 2025 at 5:14 AM Hi Gershon, a classic August poem.. My daughter is mystified by my sitting on the patio in the humidity for three hours. I am in the shade, I just love our backyard so much. May you have a cool Sunday. :) Gershon Wolf August 17, 2025 at 7:46 PM I don't know how you do it either, Regina. Even in the shade, it's been brutal here in Chicago. ~ Dee O. Dorant