August

August has arrived.  A month dreaded by many schoolchildren, as it signals the end of - or nearly the end of - summer vacation.  When I was a kid, we used to always go on our vacation during August, after all of the other kids had long ago been on theirs.  It used to please me, because even though waiting through the whole summer seemed unfair, then when it finally happened, it was an even better treat.  And the looming of the school year could be forgotten until it was nearly time to actually show up for the first day.

I still think of August as the winding down of summer, but now that I'm not in school, I think of it more as a month of transition, when summer things start to finish, and thoughts of fall and cooler weather can begin.  In our family, it's month of birthdays for those who are gone but not forgotten, and wedding anniversaries for those here to celebrate.  A bittersweet month, if you will.

August

by Mary Oliver

When blackberries hang

swollen in the woods, in the brambles 

nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high

branches, reaching

my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming

the black honey of summer

into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is.  In the dark

creeks that run by there is

this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is

this happy tongue.