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Wanda Swim Strunk


August is the dying month


August is the dying month
When hot July struggles to keep her hold
Moving toward a hopeless chilled September
Pretending to be summer
As if children heading back to school stir the cold from the sky

It is a refined deceiver

August is a butterfly crushed on a roadway
One side dead to the pavement
The other is still vibrantly flutteringly alive
Fighting to fly away but it’s fate is already sealed

It is a delicate executioner

August is the month colors trickle from trees
A first leaf unnoticed tumbles
Sheepishly the others will shortly follow
Shamefully they will drift to the ground

It is a subtle destroyer

August is 6 PM
The disillusion of a day realized
Dinners to be eaten alone
Murky dark mixes with the daylight
Spitting out gloomy gray

It is a sophisticated betrayer

August is the death rattle
Demise by means of a Fall
Stealing gaped mouth last breaths
Swallowing everything into its earth
Coughing back a cold winter in return.

Submitted: Tuesday, September 13, 2005

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  • Rookie Annette Lohan (2/6/2006 3:59:00 AM)

    You make great use of imagery in your poems - children stirring the cold out of the sky; the butterfly as refined deceiver. I like the use of the single line as heading to each stanza. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Mary Nagy (10/31/2005 10:47:00 AM)

    Wow, I've read alot of poems about fall/autumn but never one like this Wanda! What a picture you paint here. Great poem. (But, I still love August!) :) Sincerely, Mary (Report) Reply

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