A Sonnet In Need of Summer

For corn-crisp breezes

and honey-light curtains of warmth

I patiently wave along the gaudy parade

of blooms and greens pungent and starched.


 A sultry thunder-clacking storm floats

on clouds wrangled from the East, and I

count double-time for the sacred

lull of a season bellyful, shade sleepful.


Choired by the locust hum, the backyard pecan

 will whispersing a rhythm of silky tambourines,

A Beat I Can

move to, tap toes to,


close eyes to,

sing songs to.