August

August must be shed slowly, like pear liquor.

Pour into a small glass, drink a drop, and look through the glass at the sun.

August nights should be diluted with candle lights, milk poured into a cup for a brownie, purring a cat and the chatter of grasshoppers.

August days should be laid between the pages of books, like bookmarks, in order to then shake out their heat in the dank November of taking this book from the shelf.

And I conjure you, well, do not shout at all corners, "Oh, here is August, here is autumn.

Well, where are you in a hurry?

Stop the clock.

Drink a Drop.

©️Ray Douglas Bradbury