August lacks the willpower to hold its breath
through a summer storm. No, the gusts
of a petulant season mark time
on our window, the rhythm of rain soaking me
to tranquility even in the face of ferocity.
Red-faced & resolute, even summer must end —
I see its breath, I see the wind, I see
the trees return to repose as the sky blues again.
We all have endings but with a pilgrim’s optimism
I start on another page of this diary, determined
to find more white sheets have been inked
in the months that fall somewhere
behind a summer storm’s last howl.
© 2022 | Phillip Knight Scott
Written for dVerse “Poetics: Sometimes August isn’t recognized”
Also used:
- Fandango’s One Word Challenge (willpower)
- Pensitivity101’s Three Things (timing, rhythm, style)
This is absolutely stellar writing 🙂 I especially like; “with a pilgrim’s optimism I start on another page of this diary, determined to find more white sheets have been inked.” Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt ❤❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love this, from that awesome opening line to the end
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nicely done poem.
LikeLike
I like this depiction of a summer storm. Hints of build up (holding breath) and then the storm, and then the aftermath. It’s really well drawn.
LikeLike
You captured the many facets of storm beautifully.
LikeLike
I love the last stanza and the pilgrims optimism!
LikeLike