what were intended to be days
have become weeks – six, in fact
and these last few days of my summer
find me trying to finish the deck
instead of other august projects
and, of course, I never intended
to catch and cut my finger on
the protruding nail, or sweat
through four (count ‘em) t-shirts
one day, cooler and far away
from now, I will be sitting under
an october sun with a cool drink
and warm friends and will say
“I helped build it” in response to
an affirming comment without
remembering being hot and hurt
and reach for my guitar without
a thought for the cut on my finger
Peace,
Milton
I love the images this conjures up in such a short piece!
There’s a double meaning for “august.” Love it!