August afternoon is simmering,
Objects in the distance shimmering
Through the haze
Of the heat in waves.
Sing to me of things transcending me.
Im afraid Ill die
Of the smallness of my concerns
And how little Ive learned
And my backward turns.
From the child, I run, unknowingly,
To the woman, heavy, moving slowly,
Come to know that after Solstice
Each gold summer day
Takes more light away,
Takes more light away.
Kick the can and watch it dancing down,
Silvering the summer dusk
With a thin sound,
Tripping tin sound.
Who am I to think that what I need
Turns the wheel and brings the weal
Of the world to me
When its blissfully
Unconcerned with me?
But I strut my part importantly
Like Im in a movie, moving slowly.
Summer games give way to autumn rains,
Winter to pain
Of the bitter wane,
The bitter wane.