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Blue Skies of August 27 Poems. Click on image to order.
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Blue Skies of August 27 Poems. Click on image to order.

Sleeping On The Porch

Fans turning slowly, table and chairs moved to the side,
a curtain to divide into bedrooms, on a wire to slide,
open toward the river, like a tent with only two sides.

Four air mattresses blown up nice and tight,
all the sleeping bags spread out just right,
a cool perfect place to relax for the night.

Full moon through the clouds shining down,
like a mural slowly changing and turning around,
and the thump of persimmons falling to the ground.

Awaken by thunder rolling on through the night,
like the rumble of horses as they run out of sight,
then flashes of lighting that were very bright.

Sound on the tin roof like the roar of a train,
a soothing sound for your dreams without a name,
and then at last a long slow steady rain.

Light slowly creeps in under a cloudy sky,
trees take shape and are barely visible to the eye,
fog covers the river but it never got too high.

Fans turning slowly, table and chairs now back in place,
air mattress and sleeping bags rolled up for more space,
porch back to normal, signs of the night, not a trace.

--Hubert Crowell

2010 Hubert C. Crowell