So Long July
I never miss July.
I am glad when she leaves the room in her hot pink frock.
She just thinks she's the best.
I know she is great and all that and a bag of chips.
But really she is attention seeking.
She is hot.
And heat takes your attention
away from the art of life
and you just settle into sitting.
That's what July requires.
Even the rain is hot.
When she leaves the room.
I feel like something beautiful is gone
but now I can get back to being myself.
I can move more freely.
August is more patient with me
and I with her.
She is a bit withered.
So I empathize with her.
I know what it is to wear an old silver bracelet
and a black t shirt
and settle into the crowd.
We are not standouts, August and I.
But still we are lush.
We are the harvest.
We have seen the blooms
and know that they can continue right along
into the frost.
August is the forerunner of Autumn.
And I love Autumn like a sister.
- Tags: Sunday letters
- Deanne Fitzpatrick