August

18 Comments
purple starfish

Purple starfish on a Salt Spring Island beach, August 2012 – Photo © 2014 by V. Nesdoly

August

Here already
—with your brown lawns and leggy baskets
blushing tomatoes and blackening berries,
hairy, husky ears of corn?

Your arrival means it’s time
for our last summer fling
on ferry boats to azure islands
where we’ll walk beaches
with nervous crickets and hungry wasps
hunt shells, snap starfish
read in the dappled shade

Back home I’ll shop with you
braving the hordes of moms and kids
with their lists of ruled and unruled,
Crayola and calculator,
for you are the time
to stock up on marked-down
Five Stars and boxes of Bic
gel technology and fluorescent sticky notes.

Before you slip away
we have a date to stand in line
for Super Dogs and the Musical Ride
the Logger Show and flying bikes.
Later with hands mini-donut cinnamon-scented
we’ll muscle our way through crowds
lined up for massages
from the back rub machine,
clotted in front of barkers
hawking magic cloths and unblackable pots
to the table of framable prints.

So hello, dear August.
though your coming caught me by surprise
please don’t be in a hurry to go
for you could never overstay
your welcome.

© 2014 by Violet Nesdoly (all rights reserved)

18 thoughts on “August

  1. Violet, a perfect poem for those anticipating August. The imagery spoke to me of especially the first stanza and the photo was stunning. We do not have such gorgeous looking starfish at the south shore of Long Island, NY beaches.
    By the way, would you be interested in me adding your “Summer Advice” poem and photo combination to the Summer Serenity Gallery?

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  2. What a beautiful starfish! Your poem captures August, but even though it is my birthday and anniversary month, I have never liked it much. It’s just so oppressively hot here.

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    • Margaret, I can appreciate your aversion to “oppressively hot.” On Monday we came home to a flooded townhouse. Since then, we’ve been living with these huge fans that dry the place with powerful streams of warm air, no window opening allowed. That combined with our current heat wave means the temperature of the main floor averages 98-100F. We’re living upstairs in fan cooled rooms that are bearable. But any outings into the hallway or down the stairs are like going into the tropics.

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  3. Your beautiful poem captures exactly my feeling this morning – what, it’s August already? I love your conversation with August and the entreaty to complete the summer “must dos” “Before you slip away…” . Well done!

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  4. Missed this earlier, but glad finally to read your apt words, Violet. I love all the excitement of August you’ve included. Long ago it did mean the state fair. How excited I was to go! I love those lines “hands mini-donut cinnamon-scented”-brings the time back vividly.

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    • Why thank you, Linda! The PNE is our equivalent to your fall fair. We haven’t been for a year or two, but I’m feeling like this is the year to renew that tradition, if for nothing else than the mini-donuts!

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