Stolid

Let the days on end fade and the landscape turn dark, and enjoy the balm of cool night air. Summer is things happening over and over with only the slightest variations to let you know that life has not become one long incident of deja vu. A few dry, brown oak leaves crunch underfoot as I cross the faded lawn. They increase in number each day. Most of the oak foliage remains above, providing shade and a rustling sound whenever a slight breeze favors us, which is too rarely. I sit in the shade and breathe hot air, and feel as though I have melted into the sullen and sultry earth. I feel as silent as the dirt.

( Sunday Verse )