August Reigns
Serendipity prefers months
That end with snow or thaw
But oppressive, steady heat
Has got me in its maw.
The month was ripe for picking
No valentines or marking days
When it crept in, I didn't catch
The addiction in its ways.
Now I am an August child
Basquing in its steam
Thinking of crocuses or fallen leaves
As some unwanted dream.
August languorates my words
The sentences turn legion
And my heart is a little bird
That wants no other season.
My new friends are the reason.
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