August Haze, a poem about the dog days of Summer

White dry linens flutter in hot air,

lemon spritz aroma weaves through hair

Airy clouds drift in the vast blue sky,

swirling thoughts sway as bees hum by.

White wine hangs low in hand,

blurred lines drawn lazily in sand

A cool breeze grazes, a gentle command,

stirring the stillness, awakening the mind.

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