august

A piece of you lies with me always
from when I wake to when I sleep;
You are the sweetest smells of the season--
and I close my eyes and sigh...

Wool sweaters in the wintertime,
lavender in the spring;
the august presence of a figurehead
draped in perennial lilacs and memory.

The heart of the house:
All hail the goddess!
And long for her with lonely lips
and aching hands when she is not there.

For when the year has run its course,
whether winter, spring, august, autumn;
You are the sweetest smell my nose has ever tasted;
I close my eyes and sigh.