I ran across the roughest of drafts of a poem recently about the high almost comedic drama of August in the Midwest. So much sun.  So many insects. And those dramatic clouds! The drama of the clouds alone could give us whiplash.

Just a few snippets from that time ten years ago, since I am submitting a revised/ edited full version for publication and don’t want to have this considered published.

Further down the path
our necks nearly snapped
off our barely- there shoulders

I know autumn is behind this all and is not worried about arriving.  These photos were snapped using my little phone camera.


Thanks for reading.

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