Too Hot
Look at you, August,
petending to be
a southern belle
all breezy and full
of mint julep.
Refinement is not your style,
a plague your eighth month sun
driven to scourge pastures,
blind cattle, wilt
bluebells and buttercups.
No southern belle, you.
©Kathryn M. Collins
September 26, 2012
Copyright © Kathryn Collins | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment