In the bleak midsummer
humid, hot, a blanket
of sweat upon the skin and
dirt
flies too tired to buzz
Yet, roses still in bloom
Susans in yellow dresses
and eyes of brown
some chicory, blue and
dusty
trees full in green lofty
homage to the sky
My soul dry and tight
as withered persimmons
from years long past
long passed
In the bleak midsummer
I heard birds try their
best,
watched clouds drift
south,
felt a little breeze,
JRMcF
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