Daniel Henry Rodgers Poet Lyric

Notes About The Poem

Crape Myrtles in August

Daniel Henry Rodgers

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At the Jersey shore where the Crape Myrtle's are in their God given fullness

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“August teaches what winter will ask of us as we shed our old selves like leaves.”  
- Poet

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Crape Myrtles in August

The bark peels back like old skin—
Mine, yours, the cinnamon scrolls
Of what we shed to live. August
Bleaches the world to bone, the bark’s faint spice
Rising in the noon glare,
Heat tasting of salt and sand. And still this Crape crowns
Itself with Myrtle fire. Still—

I cannot explain what breaks in me. Still I press my cheek
Against its flaking flesh, feel
The pulse beneath—magenta,
White, pink, the deep red
Of what I've never
Bled for anyone.

Each blossom a small fist
Opening with the muted pop
Of summer rain on dry earth. Each petal, tissue-thin
As the lies I've told myself
About enduring. The Eastern Shore sun
Has made this tree what survival
Looks like: stubborn—

Beautiful, built for the burning
Seasons that strip us
To what we are. Winter comes,
And I am learning
How to be naked—
These mottled limbs

My teachers, conductors' hands
Mid-gesture, never finished
With their fierce music
Of staying alive. Of reaching
Up through the killing
Cold, brittle air ringing
With the clink of frozen twigs toward something

Green promises I cannot fathom—yet still I know
Lives in the light returning.

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Suzanne Delaney August 24, 2025 at 3:53 AM Hi Daniel: I had to click on this one and read each line with growing fascination. Your metaphors unfolding like the brilliant fragile blossoms on such a hardy tree. We have two this exact crimson pink in our yard. Amazing closing line. Daniel Henry Rodgers September 2, 2025 at 10:29 AM Dear Suzanne, your words always feel like sunlight on a warm afternoon. I love that you connected with the blossoms and the tree’s resilience— you truly see the layers and the closing line. Your insight makes sharing these poems a joy. Blessings, Suzanne, Daniel

I Am Anaya August 16, 2025 at 3:21 PM I enjoyed your tribute to August and it's breathtaking offerings and treasures. Trees make for wonderful metaphors as you've described. Stubbornly we make like a tree and leaf...(old joke)...in any God given weather. I'm in no rush for autumn, i shall consume all summer moments. An insatiable personification, and like the myrtles in August, we need the "light" that keeps us alive. A fav for me, Daniel. August blessings__Anaya Daniel Henry Rodgers September 2, 2025 at 10:27 AM Dear Anaya, your note made me smile“leaf” pun and all! I love how you drink in summer like it’s sacred. Your way of seeing light and stubborn growth in everything around us is why your reflections always feel like little August blessings themselves. Blessings, Anaya, Daniel

Valsa George August 15, 2025 at 10:58 PM Only in your brain such thoughts about the seasonal changes can come in such a unique way. The bark peels back like old skin. We have to keep renewing after shedding our old self, not to rot but to bloom like the myrtle tree. The tree, despite the adverse weather, is stubborn in its intent to flower. "Winter comes, And I am learning How to be naked— These mottled limbs." You are getting ready for the approaching winter to get naked, to strip off the safety outer bark . It might cause pain, yet there is a promise to reach out to something... a light illuming. Lovely poem as ever, dear Daniel. Daniel Henry Rodgers September 2, 2025 at 10:25 AM Dear Valsa, your words always feel like a gentle hand on my shoulder. I love how you see the shedding, the renewal, the stubborn beauty in growth. You make me feel understood, seen, and encouraged to keep reaching for that light, even through winter. Blerssings, Valsa, Daniel

Bill Baker August 13, 2025 at 10:26 PM We have 6 Crepe Myrtles in our yard here in Texas. As you mention in your poem, they are very hardy. We don't get the coastal New England winds like you do in Pa & NJ, but it gets cold to us in the winter. Below freezing for about 6 weeks down here. Your use of metaphor to reflect your own feelings as season change was a treat. I wish you well my friend, as you travel your own path with it trials and tribulations. Smiles ~ Blessings from your poet friend in Texas, Bill Daniel Henry Rodgers August 15, 2025 at 12:45 PM Hello Bill, I told my wife that we will have to plant Crape Myrtles in our yard in PA, because they are just outstandingly beautiful. We have them at our shore house, and this year, for whatever reason, they captured my full attention. Enjoy the summer! Blessings, Bill, Daniel

Maria Williams August 12, 2025 at 10:05 PM Dear Daniel, I love how the peeling bark, cinnamon spice, and Crape Myrtle blooms all carry this mix of beauty and grit. The way you mirror the seasons with your own inner journey hits hard—August’s burn, winter’s stripping back, and still that reaching for light. It feels so real, like you’re right there pressing your cheek to the bark, learning how to endure without losing the tenderness. Hugs Daniel Henry Rodgers August 15, 2025 at 12:42 PM Dear Maria, it is so fascinating to see what captures a person's attention at any given moment. This August, the Crape Myrtles at the Shore not only captured my eye, but my mind, thoughts, and admiration. I see them every summer, but this year they captivated me at so many levels. Blessings, My Dear Maria, Daniel

Andrea Dietrich August 12, 2025 at 6:04 PM Gorgeous writing, deep and so meaningful, Daniel Daniel Henry Rodgers August 15, 2025 at 12:40 PM Dear Andrea, thanks for coming and sharing my Crape Myrtle Tree with me. Blessings, My Dear Andrea, Daniel

Anne Winter August 11, 2025 at 7:55 PM Dearest Daniel, a very beautifully written thoughtful poem! It's so beautiful, the way you have described August. My birthday comes in August. August 31st. I love trees and your poem felt like a comforting hug filled with so many emotions creatively written! With love and respect always, Anne Anne Winter August 13, 2025 at 5:06 AM Your words will always be safe in my heart. This means a lot more than my words can ever decipher. Thank you so much for being so caring and brilliant friend! I am so so so grateful<3 Daniel Henry Rodgers August 12, 2025 at 7:43 AM Dearest Anne, I am very pleased to see your note this morning. Since your birthday is this month, I will name the tree in front of the shore house in NJ, Anne's Crape Myrtle Tree, and will always remember that it is your birthday month, for they only bloom in August here in PA and NJ. If you look up these trees, you will find them to be so full of life and adorn the Jersey shore with such spectacular blooms. Thanks for your wonderful friendship. Blessings, My Dear Anne, Daniel

Hilda Greenhough August 11, 2025 at 3:29 PM I enjoy your poem and the photo. I can see why you love the myrtle. May they be warm and winter well this year. Daniel Henry Rodgers August 12, 2025 at 7:38 AM Dear Hilda, here in Pa and Nj, there are not a lot of August blooming trees, with one of the exceptions being the Crape Myrtle. This year, they became highly interesting to me. Thanks for your visit! Blessings, My Dear Hilda, Daniel

Paula Goldsmith August 11, 2025 at 2:40 PM What a lovely write you have here for a lovely flower and picture. Love It... Great quote. I wish I was at your pretty beach. It looks heavenly. Have a lovely/blessed day writing away............... Daniel Henry Rodgers August 12, 2025 at 7:36 AM Dear Paula, I found a new love this August and that was the blooming of the Crape Myrtles. For some reason, they were not as important in the past for me, and this year I became quite fascinated by them. They come in different colors, but the Reds are my favorite. Blessings, Dear Paula, Daniel

Sara Kendrick August 11, 2025 at 12:35 PM I like some of the descriptions of the Crepe Myrtle tree that you have penned in this one and also the comparisons to you and what you are feeling inside. Creative work for sure. Thanks for sharing it with us. Sara K Daniel Henry Rodgers August 12, 2025 at 7:34 AM Dear Sara, Thank you so much for your visit. After I was reading your comment, I noticed you spelled Crape as Crepe, which got me curious about the two spellings. Both are fully acceptable, for Instance, Jersey uses Crape, whereas other areas of the country use Crepe. Apparently, Crape is more formal and Crepe is less formal. Thanks for challenging my thinking this morn. Blessings, My Dear Sara, Daniel

Jay Narain August 11, 2025 at 10:13 AM A lovely and deeply evocative piece. I'm curious—was the crepe myrtle a specific source of inspiration, or did it emerge more abstractly? Great work. Daniel Henry Rodgers August 11, 2025 at 11:56 AM Hello Jay, It is funny that you ask because these trees bloom every year at this time, and they are just amazing. This year, for some reason, they caught my attention even more, especially with the different colors. Although the deep red is my favorite. The trees inspired the poem's existence and the life of its message. Blessings, My Friend, Danie

Kim Rodrigues August 10, 2025 at 5:24 PM Mmm…cinnamon scrolls… Each blossom a small fist…tissue thin petals…stubborn survival …a lot of angst in this poem! Autumn, where once our young feet danced through the piled leaves, seems to remind us of our ultimate destination…I say ultimate (death) but of course when our eyes open we see Jesus. The final lines, where you see the green lives returning, but it is edgy and raw. <3 Daniel Henry Rodgers August 11, 2025 at 11:54 AM Dear Kim, It is always a pleasure to read your wonderful notes. I go to the Jersey Shore alot in the summer and these trees come alive in August and is quite spectacular flowers that last a good part of a month. Yes, it is in the grace of our Lord that they exist. Blessings, My Dear Kim, Daniel

Paige Hind August 10, 2025 at 5:10 PM Wow!! WOW. You wrote this with power and vulnerability combined. " The pulse beneath—magenta, White, pink, the deep red Of what I've never Bled for anyone." "trees crowning themselves with fire" woah :) Daniel Henry Rodgers August 11, 2025 at 11:52 AM Dear Paige, thanks for your ongoing support and making it a fav. These trees are in full bloom as I speak and they are spectacular. Blessings, My Dear Paige, Daniel Paige Hind August 10, 2025 at 5:10 PM fav