My August

Mid-August --- my sweet memory, my beautiful dream, my worst nightmare. You were there, glistening in the sun, like the green river, almighty, all bare. I was picking berries, still unripe and yellow like my young heart with wings so frail. I dropped my basket, berries scattered; Off my innocence began to trail! Your jade eyes reflecting the dancing leaves. I drowned. Your love is sweet and sour as the berries, coated with lies, guilty-crowned. My August, you bid goodbye  as quick as how  the day turned to night. As I waved my hand, only your wife saw the tears in my eyes. My August, you were out of sight. ©reddragonfly⚘