Summer Woe

*Image found HERE

Summer Woe

Softly, the June threads over the posies;
lulls a cloud out of tears, softly
a hand dressing the barren in polka dots
until you no longer recognize
the wound from a beating heart.
I ask the cab driver does he think
the dead care of seasons;
do they pay for their tickets?
Do they ever kneel before the rows of blackberries
with their gaping, ethereal mouths?
He does not know, and I am thirsty;
the river is not mine.
I hunger for the pines,
proverbial green humming through a mist;
watching the field wane, grow yellow for love,
bloat into squashes.
I hunger for pain that echoes
as far as underworld,
for fled music,
coiling around the tree trunks;
mocking these summer dames, their
dreams as dry as a dessert,
their sea as shallow as an art nouveau vase.
Softly, but I hunger, yet still
softly
for the cracked ribs to grow an almond,
for an ant to crawl in its shade
and sleep,
a maddening that unhinges Saturn loose:

my dress of reeds and undead, reddened leaves,
the whiteness of the hills untouched, or mornings
unsolicited, unmade, unfolded from the dark;
I dream of use.

*As usual, the dessert part is not a typo! I actually mean dessert, not desert! I find most desserts too dry for me to like them, hence why that image. Hope you enjoy reading!