August Wind

I walk the streets

The warm breeze runs through my hair

Like your fingers

The lights are dim on the skyscrapers

People walk in chaotic serpentine paths

Avoiding pockets of heat

Water drips from the sky

As air conditioners empty out

Upon the sidewalk below

Circling towards my home

Contemplating, reflecting, thinking.

A smile widens my horizon

Her blue eyes are on my mind

The soft skin I yearn for

It’s the August Wind that brings her to me.

© 2006 David Greg Harth

06.08.02.11:49:44@205HudsonNYC