The Last Day of August


Frenzied locusts buzz their way 

to a crescendo peak,

the noise of heat,

the noise of summer.

I throw my head back

and gaze

into the last day of an August sky.

One hundred black birds

flit to the East

pulling my thoughts behind them.

This moment is defined:

An endless sky holds the future.

In the noise of the world,

there is pulsing hope.

I grab onto it.

I wear it proudly.

~ Hope~

The talisman of my heart.


Sharon Frye