Still Summer Light
Lie in the park and listen. Now the sun
of warm July has passed, you hear the lake
respond in ripples to the wind’s soft run.
Here silence breeds itself for silence’ sake
away from phones and thoughts, and as you walk
deeper into another land, you feel
soft voices of soft inspiration talk,
speaking as if their vibrant waves could steal
your heart and mind away. Here summer lives
yet; July and all her children know
the warmth your face has felt remains, and gives
still subtle heat and photons’ worth of glow,
and though your eyes are open, need not fear,
for this kind light could never blind you here.
This poem © Oliver Tearle 2022