I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Month: August 2022
08/25/2022 j.g.l.
A little too little, a little too late
for crunchy brown lawns and fields of sickly corn.
August rain.
Heat didn’t help. Heat rarely does,
not like this.
Parched.
We wake when we sleep, then wake up wondering.
Another day of humidity, give-and-take forecasts,
and questionable economic news. Speculation.
The lies we must live with, and the hope,
so little evidence.
Puddles were temporary most of the time,
this year
dry as dust.
Drought.
Precipitation,
evaporation,
rain less of a problem than more of a solution.
This year
when it happens, it happens.
Untimely response. Unfortunate.
While we wait for an answer.
© 2022 j.g. lewis
“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and
the new fall not born. The odd uneven time.”
-Sylvia Plath
Posted on August 23, 2022 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
sit by the water
planned or unplanned
you will
silenced by
simply being there
stillness
unnecessarily understated
naturally
sit by the water
let it speak
listen
it knows
how thought is quenched
as if a thirst
sit by the water
you will
you know
08/23/2022 j.g.l.
