The Ripening of August (a poem)

the ripening of August
steals my breath;
the world is made of dew
and I am a blade of grass—
tremble
tremble
beneath your skin sliding
over me…
do you feel it too? how I could
break into being
at your touch?
how to say it without
saying it? you
no longer hold me
with your eyes.
and I am chained
by this freedom;
do you hear the
wilderness?
the sound of longing
stretching out over the
wide field
of my heart?
it is the sound of
August coming on.

**inspired by this poem from Rilke. 

Comments

  1. Jennifer Dougan says

    Laura,

    Poetry is something I haven’t delved into lately but enjoy. Your line “the ripening of August” is what most catches my attention here. Thank you. Ahh, summer. 🙂 Crimson and yellow sunflowers attract gold finches in the backyard, and summer smells like cut grass and fresh rain.

    Jennifer Dougan
    http://www.jenniferdougan.com

  2. Jerry says

    This reminds me of Luci Shaw. The way your soul intertwines with nature. Its as if you can tell if you are projecting yourself on natural beauty or it is projecting itself on you. Beautiful images.

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