It was August, always August,
when the heat rose as the sun
stretched out its fingers
and you scrambled up the apple tree,
chasing after those last rays of summer.

I never followed, afraid of falling,
always tethered to the ground.
You teased me from your perch,
hanging upside down, your mouth
agape with laughter—

and oh how I wanted to touch you,
to tell you things, to kiss you.

Later that day you carved our initials
in that old gnarled tree; “friends forever,”
it read, and we smeared blood
from pricked fingers over the living wood,
sealing the pact with a handshake
and two lopsided grins—

and oh how I wanted to touch you again,
to tell you things, to kiss you.

But it was August, always August,
when the fruit fell from the trees
and smoke lingered over scorched hills.
Your initials remained, carved
upon my secret heart,
though you would never chase me
like you chased after that blistering sun.

You would never know that I loved you.

A really excellent poem, one of the best from a poet whose even mid-range poems are excellent! It works extremely well and every image is vivid and telling. My only suggestion would be that I think the last line is redundant and labours the point just that tiny bit too much. But this is only a small matter.

well gosh, Rory, that's quite the compliment! thank you for that. and thank you for the honest critique as well, i will look at that last line again and see if it's really necessary.

love love love love love this.

I don't like 'agape' here much, but it's not because the word isn't perfectly suited for the sentence, but the tone of it sounds like something in an english paper (stiff and formal), where the rest of the poem uses such wonderfully natural language and flows like honey.

Really I mean the first part: I'm in love with this. Charming, beautiful, and terrifically sad too.

thank you, O little orange kitty friend. i will ponder a substitute for agape and see if it works =)

I love this. It's beautifully sketched. One of the beautiful love poems I have read recently.

thank you!

i want the box!!

mamta wrote:

i want the box!!

never!!

Chris..there is a disarming innocence and an endearing naiveté to this that grabs me and won't let go. It's a very pure love poem.

I agree with Rory about the final line. It is implied eloquently in the preceding lines. Even the less astute readers will understand the implications well enough without a spoon feeding.

And I agree with The Cat about "agape"..both for the reasons he listed and for the ambiguity. This is probably more my fault, but initially I read it as ah-gah-pey, meaning spiritual or brotherly love. And, while it is a great word in many instances, it would not fit the context here, obviously. I would opt for simplicity in this case, and go with "open".

thanks for the feedback, H. i workshopped this some friends and they all agreed with you and the others about the final line and the use of "agape." i'll edit accordingly.

edit:

It was August, always August,
when the heat rose as the sun
stretched out its fingers
and you scrambled up the apple tree,
chasing after those last rays of summer.

I never followed, afraid of falling,
always tethered to the ground.
You teased me from your perch,
hanging upside down, your mouth
open with laughter—

and oh how I wanted to touch you,
to tell you things, to kiss you.

Later that day you carved our initials
in that old gnarled tree; “friends forever,”
it read, and we smeared blood
from pricked fingers over the living wood,
sealing the pact with a handshake
and two lopsided grins—

and oh how I wanted to touch you again,
to tell you things, to kiss you.

But it was August, always August,
when the fruit fell from the trees
and smoke lingered over scorched hills.
Your initials remained, carved
upon my secret heart,
though you would never chase me
like you chased after that blistering sun.

Perfect.