These dog days of August all sultry and lazy
awaken painstakingly, dampened and hazy.
Thick air fogs my brain as it fogs up my glasses,
and mushrooms like bread dough expand through the grasses.
Alongside our green algae-carpeted pond
grow goldenrod, milkweed, and proud cattail frond.
The bold black-eyed Susan reveals her bright face,
as fields grow abloom with fine-frilled Queen Anne’s lace.
Round ripening acorns and blackberries’ sweetness
Fulfill to o’erflowing high summer’s completeness.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 349: 75 words, TOTAL = 57,381; 2,619 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.