August

August The massive heat which paralyzed any thought of going outside during the day, the heat was as a huge military blanket glued to the body like skin of grief, wars fought for no gain other than the knowledge that new masters who promised peace and freedom, will renege first thing when safely in power as sure as August will return. The September evening is soft and gentle as lover´s sigh the breeze is cooling wooden telephone poles, it is now possible to ring without hearing the crackling of agony of sap dripping dowels. The voices of people eating their meal on terraces and porches are like forgotten a tune remembered; this, a moment to be cherished when rain and fog comes and turns the village into gloom and we´ll under our umbrellas say: ” August wasn´t that awful.”