texas saturday night.
no air conditioning.
it is the end of july and i am feeling a rush to say words, a rush leading into my attempt at august break, a month of mostly pictures, a month i have my doubts about, and yet i have no words. it is too hot for words. august is tomorrow, this last month of summer already at the doorstep, and surely i have something, i think, surely something is worth talking about, but i sit here with both feet up, the hotness of summer visible through the glass doors, and i am blank.
this morning was a gift of fresh okra,
a surprise waiting at the front door
when i at last opened the house to the day;
it is too beautiful to eat, but eat it i will.
it was a red dragonfly perched on an old daylily stalk
the shadows of trees
moving across the lawn and the red bricks of the street.
right now is the sun in the west,
the shadows on the opposite sides of the trees,
the front yard all in shade,
2 strips of sunlight tipping the monkey grass along the creek
tonight is the future,
the very last bit of july,
the last stars of the month,
the last july moonlight.
i am blank, and not unhappy about that.