Poor summer, it doesn’t know it’s dying.
A few days are all it has. Still, the lake
is with me, its strokes of blue-violet
and the fiery sun replacing loneliness.
I feel like an animal that has found a place.
This is my burrow, my nest, my attempt
to say, I exist. A rose can’t shut itself
and be a bud again. It’s a malady,
wanting it. On the shore, the moon sprinkles
light over everything, like a campfire,
and in the green-black night, the tall pines
hold their arms out as God held His arms
out to say that He was lonely and that
He was making Himself a man.
“Embers” by Henri Cole
Pretty much everything I know, love, feel, care about poetry I owe to my friend and former teacher Dave Lucas. He’s actually the author of some of my favorite poems (see here), but it’s also through Facebook stalking him that I’ve discovered even more brilliant works, like the one above by Henri Cole.
As summer was beginning to fade — was it still August or already September, I can’t even remember — Michael and I raced the setting sun to get to Edgewater Beach in time to watch it sink below the horizon. It was a quiet day at the beach, a couple holding hands here and a few rascally dogs there.
I wanted the chance to wear my bohemian beach dress. It has made an appearance both while horseback riding on the beaches of the Mediterranean Sea and in the bars of Baltimore, but it’s safe to say the beach is where it belongs.
It’s also the perfect option for showing off my current obsession: Flash Tattoos. The temporary tattoo brand teamed up with Beyonce to make a line inspired by her music (song titles and words are included, hence “perfection” on my index finger) and her loving fan base, the Beyhive. That’s where the badass bee on my shoulder blade comes from. I love how they sparkled in the golden sunset.
Today it’s chilly and overcast, so I’m enjoying the chance to flip through these pictures that remind me of summer’s last, warm embers.
Photos by Michael Ciuni