An August Interlude

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Fog swirled before the mountains
hid them as a woman’s veil hides her
countenance. The sun languidly
pulled the fog away.  In the garden, grape
leaves, green the day before,
had disappeared, leaving a bare vine
around the cedar post. Three green tomato
worms crawled there, full-stomach guilty.
The farmer sentenced them as soon as he
discovered them. Four o’clocks in pink,
white and yellow tutus pirouetted like
ballerinas. Evening arrived speckled with
stars and a moon as bright as white magnolia
blooms dressed the darkness. A mockingbird
sang softly to the night.

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© Freeda Baker Nichols

Listen to the Mockingbird . . .

parent mockingbird watches over her babies  in the hedge bush

parent mockingbird watches over her babies
in the hedge bush

Baby Mockingbird

Baby Mockingbird

parent mockingbird

Baby Mockingbird

Baby Mockingbird

watches over the young
after August rain

hedge bush sways in breeze
parent bird carries insects
to the baby birds

the mockingbird’s sound
not the song of another —
keeps her babies hid

© Freeda Baker Nichols