Oddbean new post about login | logout Hard sun Cuts rough Shadow, Sharpens The sorrow Of summer Strangled Rose, trees Bend in Awkward Angles, Reach in Supplication Toward November’s Throne, The held Breath, The purgatory Before letting Go #Poetry
Hmm... I see the storm in the final element of this one, @Michelle. The heat of a too cruel summer building a tension to be roared out in a release from the sufferring of purgatorial sun's fire. The weather getting you down, I take it. By the way, as you mention rose, I recall you have wild roses nearby. Roses do well with spent coffee grounds, of which I suspect you have plenty. Don't overdo it though - they can make the soil very acidic.