Poems about August are not happy.
I like to share positive and cheerful things, but poems about August tend to focus on the heat or the ending of summer, either literally or metaphorically. Poets also have a lot of say about August because the poems tend to be really long.
In the end, I picked the first one I read. It’s not overly happy, but it has great visuals, and it’s short. I hope your August is not just an ending of summer, but a new start for the rest of the year.
by Dorothy Parker
When my eyes are weeds,
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has beginning
Where the crumpled beeches start
In a fringe of salty reeds;
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward through my heart;
Summer, do your worst!
Light your tinsel moon, and call on
Your performing stars to fall on
Headlong through your paper sky;
Nevermore shall I be cursed
By a flushed and amorous slattern,
With her dusty laces’ pattern
Trailing, as she straggles by.