Silence of Summer
August 9, 2025•242 words
I let the sun walk with me a while.
Its pale hand skims the grass.
The cool keeps what it wants,
and I do not ask it back.
The stream travels in a thin thought,
stone to stone, quiet and persistent.
Stones keep the day’s old heat,
moss keeps what the rain confided.
In the pines the air moves low,
a hush that learns my breathing.
There is space beside me on the path,
room in the air for a name I do not say.
Clouds gather like a patient herd.
Thunder writes its name far off.
I smile as if the l...
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