Mid Summer Nights

Courtesy of Pixabay

Under a chiseled ceiling of stars,
The weight of sunflowers lean their heavy stalks
On fence lines, thick from the swell of day.
Night blows its mulch scented breath
Darkening lavender petunias to the rattle of cicada song,
Captured inside floral cores, liquid notes
Sliding along crepe petals, slick with dew.

These goblets of swirled twilight ferment the season.
In a hot breeze, laughter spills into streets,
Releasing tin exhales of bourbon and blues
Running thick in gutters, rocking chairs on porches,
Musicians with licorice voices,
Coating their throats in roots and rhubarb.

A quick tear through bramble slows the
Drawl of tongues drunk with humidity,
Pinning The Big Easy beats to the wave of clotheslines,
Catching the rise and fall of cotton and colors,
Knotted with yellow kitchens and red bedrooms.

And yesterday’s boots
Left in dark closets, kicked to corners,
Pattered reminders of winter’s grip,
Are as far from the lace and heat of
These simmering mid summer nights.



31 thoughts on “Mid Summer Nights

  1. Debbie

    Yep, you’ve pretty much nailed summer here, DD. Love your phrases, especially “rattle of cicada song” and “musicians with licorice voices.” Reminds me of a hot southern night, when the temps are still hanging around 90 even as you go to bed!

    1. Minelli Eustacio

      Was just about to comment on this;

      Musicians with licorice voices,
      Coating their throats in roots and rhubarb.

      Perfect image, sent me straight to a summer night in Louisiana. Nicely done! 🙂

  2. L. T. Garvin, Author

    I can’t even tell you how much I love this. I know this well, being southern and all, except for the bourbon, ha ha. I can see this night as a picture clearly in my mind. Great photo too, I might add.

      1. L. T. Garvin, Author

        You certainly do. You are an enchantress of words, ha ha. Such lovely landscape descriptions make it seem that you know every corner of this country so well. I had spent that morning working with sunflowers, cutting down dead stalks, attempting to encourage them in this stifling heat.

      1. Amy Reese

        It can all be a bit much sometimes, so I truly understand. Well, if you ever find yourself on Twitter, please look me up! How nice to find out from a comment. 🙂

  3. thefeatheredsleep

    Oh this is so lovely my friend. What a spectrum of descriptiveness, one of your very best abilities as a really powerful writer to write out the world and give it color and meaning.

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