August
By Sayani Mukherjee


There's a craze over August
The eighth month
To show the face of it a little more bright
Wooden floors upon the high end beach
Nutty glowed tapered tales
Of coming undone a little more
The Indian summer has a dark end
Murky milky fidgety way
The snakes hide that way
In a little hole of August
A ceremonial end
To suck the letters
In a peephole
Let the month do the reading
As I unhinged my gate
To look over winter break.