August

I can only wonder
when I drive down 
dirt roads in august
if I have blinked
or if it is just 
telephone pole shadows
flitting over the hood
like camera shutters

and it feels like just about 
everything is overcooked in 
august
july ladybugs don't move when poked
and litter my windowsils
dry and cracking with the paint
brittle as corn kernel husks

august gives me blunt sqaures
of droop-eyed sunlight 
falling crooked on the hardwood floor
and I lie on my stomach, 
feet casually drifting somwhere above, 
and try forever to find the edge
of those sharp-shouldered shadows
where I will be able to peel them
up and off the floor
before the cruel august sun
bleaches the wood

AvaClaire

VT

19 years old

More by AvaClaire

  • Poetry dump

    Every time I jump the world spins once

    And I land in the same spot

    My dog looks like a gremlin when he’s sleeping

    It’s midnight and I wonder if my salt lamp is really salt

    Ick yep it is
  • Chat GPT Poem

    This poem is not Chat GPT
    I promise to convince you that
    and I will attempt to convey
    the human
    sitting and picking the words
    from cobweb corners where
    computers can't find them.
    there is a beating heart here

  • why playlists are tsunamis

    five songs
    last me a month
    a single playlist
    i listen to 
    over and over and over 
    chewing it like a piece of gum
    until it has gone 
    dull and flavorless
    and I spit it out
    but
    when i rediscover