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August Night
by Sheri Lindner

Another day
heavy with steamy heat
settles to stillness
as the lilies wrap themselves closed for the evening.
The garret loft
holds tight the day's dense hot
that cannot escape
through the meager skylight window
above the bed.
We switch on the roof fan
hoping to draw in night coolness.
It hits us
like a fairy spell
air washing over us
drenched in flower fragrance
drugs us
until we are breathing
only colors.
All night long
with every sleeping breath
we inhale
the sweetness of this musk liqueur.
By morning,
along with our dreams,
the mystical flower vapors
are gone,
and in their place,
freshly bathed, scentless air
to which our eyes
and a thousand buds
open.


 

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