Summer Fatigue

A hot dry wind
sends brown leaves
sliding across the rough, cracked concrete.

In the lee of the birch tree,
they bunch against the ledge
of a single-stone layer
lining the north edge of the driveway.

From time to time,
a stronger breeze
rattles the leaves
and swirls them into different shapes
but in pretty much the same place.

I am weary of the heat,
the humidity,
the feel of tired feet after long days
and the way the desire to do nothing
wilts away the small plans I made
on the drive back home.

I am ready for cool mornings,
light mist forming over the pasture
in the low light of dawning,
and the smell of dark-fired tobacco
curing in old barns
in western Kentucky.

I am ready for autumn.

But in the gap between now
and the change for which I am longing,
I will welcome a bit of time
to sit still for a while,
a little rest in this place of quietness
and the touch of my lover’s voice
soothing the soreness
of my own choices.

H. Arnett

About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Ark City, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-nine years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-eight grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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