deb the best days are the kind
that start all
dewy green, crispness in the air
that sends a chill down your spine,
the type of morning that
even SMELLS new-
chilly mornings grow warm
as the sun rises with the heat,
dewy grass becoming sticky air-
afternoons pass in shorts and tanks,
making you just wish summer
would give way to fall.
the sun creeps to bed at twilight,
leaving still, dry, vacant air
hovering lifelessly, stale.
the wind blows,
just once,
bringing out big sweaters and jeans
to hide within

Aimee it's so wonderfully hot and sticky,
warm enough to sleep outside and holds some of the most wonderful storms ever. With each one a little more tension is released and by the end. August for me is the time of rebirth, a time for reinvention.
mikey it always reminds me of summer. well of school getting out. dont know why august does. im not in school anymore but it always has that feeling. 010307
miderspunkey feels like september 011207
ClairE And the rains came. 020805
blown cherry Always seemed the bitterest of the winter months.
Rugged up with ridiculous numbers of layers, scarves, stockings and gloves.
Classrooms choked by gas heaters.
My fingers are always stiff and frozen.
Piano exams were always held in August
je5icafletcher birds sing there's not a cloud in the sky. august eighth is a beautiful day.
in oklahoma august is one of the warmest months. and school lets back in, and its really hot, and i have no choice but to wear shorts which is always a humbling experience
Lisa When I met you. When you kissed me.
Your hands.
Your lips.
It was hot.
Inside the car, and outside of it.
We couldn't finish.
It was hot.
Your eyes, deep, green, like the song.
You penetrated me, saw everything.
The time, kept passing, CD kept playing.
It was hot.
Forming Mind By the first of August
the invisible beetles began
to snore and the grass was
as tough as hemp and was
no color — no more than
the sand was a color and
we had worn our bare feet
bare since the twentieth
of June and there were times
we forgot to wind up your
alarm clock and some nights
we took our gin warm and neat
from old jelly glasses while
the sun blew out of sight
like a red picture hat and
one day I tied my hair back
with a ribbon and you said
that I looked almost like
a puritan lady and what
I remember best is that
the door to your room was
the door to mine.
Jaron cbac14e54fcd2cc719bb8e402ab1f5cc edreamsbasilicata traveltonewzealand combinatoretelefonico biciclettaonline sfondidesktopsimpson comunemonopolio maturitamatematica amputee abbigliamentomedico abbigliamentouomo2004 agenziamatrimonialeebraica gioacchinopoli momboobs vololussemburgo bancapopolaredelmaterano stovigliaristorante a43a72ba8ed5dce89336f9b1184cc4e4 060807
nevermind that we walked to school, that day, and the golden flashes inspired courage so when i took her hand she didn't shrug it off but smiled and skipped just a bit faster while the pavement sizzled. later, behind the closet, she grinned and told me i was marvelous, thanks, and dashed off to homeroom while i held my head in my hands and wondered what the world would say.

and the sun was never so hot as it was on the back of necks bend over something or another.
emmi i agree that august is a time of rebirth, new beginnings.... i tend to get itchy feet in august 060809
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