we did not know then
that we might only have ten
more augusts
we were too bent on how heavy the haze
on complaining the days
as we felt oppressed by the pressure
not enraptured but captured
under the weight of a blanket of heat
only to realize too late
that what we really were
was enwrapped in the cover of life
yet we squirmed and we sweated
and wished it away
not knowing then
we might only have ten
more augusts