He adds less and less:
haiku lines in late July—
a crab clung to tongue.
•
He makes a month of moth-
wings, calls it summer’s new light—
each day drawn to us.
•
He undoes August,
gives it July’s bursted heart,
legs of long dead June.
•
He drags the moon out.
It looks nothing like August
nor the moon even.
•
There, in the woodshed,
he holds what’s left of August:
the veins of summer.
Michael Trocchia is the author of The Fatherlands and Unfounded. He teaches philosophy at James Madison University and works in the library. He lives in Staunton.
