Well worth a share.
Last day of July, the end of the Terza Rima epic. Here is the whole thing. Surprisingly it does more or less hang together as a complete poem.
Heat crackles with shrill insect sounds, and birds
sing songs of sun and baking drought the day,
the night recedes, a tide of vacant words.
I asked the stars if only they would stay
when next the day awakes and fades the night
into the dawn, a paler shade of grey.
Reach the hope that shines out with the light
of each new day though hidden in the veil
of dewy mist that lingers after night.
Though clouds may boil and billow, charged with hail,
sweet birdsong fills the trees where river loud
relates to those who’ll listen, summer’s tale.
Storm beats about this house with heavy cloud,
rain lashes over newly shaven field,
with fierce hands wind lays hay stalks like…
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