a very August routine
spending quiet mornings sat in front of a loud book coffee still as bitter, still as dark good morning, sparrows nesting beneath our soffit how do you do? stillness stirred by internal nagging i pick up the broom and sweep the night away the skies have humour and they bless us with rain and then, all too much, all too fast so, our dining table hosts a soggy spread and soggier guests sorry for the wait, and sorry for the poor meal and also, sorry for the weather. damp laundry hovering over the bed and a quick attempt to dry tomorrow's uniform smell of heat, warmth, dampness and the distinct whirring of a fan the tired head, so heavy hits the cotton pillows August slumber brings the joy of a monsoon gone sooner