I.
red is the torrid skin
bare to the summer sun
flesh turns beet red & tomato plump
hips swaying to the outdoor music festival
tongue devours the cool ice & wine, sweet
as peaches, plums and strawberries
golden yellow, dark velvet, earthly brown-
we celebrate ripeness in all its colors & spices
II.
red is the torrid sky
scorching the grass to dry pale paper
burning the borreal forest to ash & soot
the sky is smoking darkness during the day
the smell of destruction is invasive
as gypsy moths, all that was vibrant and tall
are now burnt by growing wildfire in an instant
the charred soil is a reminder that death
stamps, entwining with life's abundance
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, Sometimes August isn't recognized, hosted by Sanaa Rizvi. Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. During the summer months here in Canada (July to August), we get wildfires in the forests. It is a total destruction of homes and communities.
"the smell of destruction is invasive as gypsy moths,".. this is incredibly hard-hitting and poignant, Grace! It's so unfortunate those wildfires that bring destruction 😥 I can only imagine the tragedy that befalls those who are affected by it. Thank you so much for adding your voice to the prompt. 🌹
ReplyDeleteExcellent contrast here, and I love the link through the colour red.
ReplyDeletesun burned skin and sun scorched earth....these two stanzas compliment each other so beautifully. We have frightening fires now in California...torrid skies indeed.
ReplyDeletethat anonymous is me, Lillian. sigh...why does it do that?
ReplyDeleteRed is the colour in so many places. I like how you move from the personal, the comfortable and enticing to the horror of the demon we've unleashed.
ReplyDeleteAnd the second Anonymous is Jane. This is Google nonsense. I already get quite enough WP nonsense...
ReplyDeleteThis is just wacky.
ReplyDeleteThe contrast is simply striking!
ReplyDeleteI love the contrast here. I'm sorry about the wildfires :(
ReplyDeleteI too like the contrast between the two stanzas. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteThe world around us is burning as we do our August summer dance. A great contrast in your poem Grace.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant poem. I loved the juxtaposition of life and death, of effervescence and finality running through the poem with red always in the background.
ReplyDeletelove the contrast here
ReplyDeleteWell written
ReplyDeleteWe are living with this dichotomy here in the Central Plains USA as well--so deftly compared in your two segments--only I'm afraid we have less of the first and more of the second. I really appreciate the skill you have used in both stanzas to bring a visual so vividly to life with words, and the last two lines of each do a perfect summing up.
ReplyDeleteThe contrast here is striking. It seems we are left with making the most of less and less.
ReplyDeleteThe contrast in your poems is palpable ... beautifully constructed, Grace.
ReplyDeleteThe juxtaposition of the two realities is startling and hard-hitting. So much wisdom in the last two lines, Grace.
ReplyDelete"we celebrate ripeness in all its colors & spices"
ReplyDeleteNice line
Much💚love
blessings and disaster, so well described and contrasted
ReplyDeleteBoth Sides Now, to borrow Joni Mitchell. August is all of these things, isn;t it?
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed the imagery of this
ReplyDelete