AUGUST

 Haibun Monday.  Frank Tassone suggests we talk about August.  It happens to be one of my favorite months.  My poem is submitted to dVerse, August 2, 2021

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August nights in our grove of trees offer a soothing symphony conducive to slumber, as the tree frogs converse quietly amid the slight rustle of leaves welcoming a gentle breeze, and the resident owl offers an occasional hoot and flutter of wings.  Sunrise, and the symphony changes to the cheerful melodies of songbirds greeting the day and visiting the bird feeders for their morning buffet.  In the distant woods, the crows are having their morning committee meeting in a cacophony of caws until one single cardinal caw seems to send them on their daily mission and they all fly away, their obsidian wings glistening in the morning sun  There’s something special about an August sky, often uncluttered cobalt, a cloudless backdrop for the splendor nature is about to offer.  In early August the leaves begin to show tinges of yellow and russet in preparation for their autumn display.  In the fields, the corn stands tall and heavy with yield,  and farmers prepare for harvest.  August is a waiting time….a time to consider rich blessings.

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forest symphony

and golden days of August

while autumn awaits