Now we got July

Höhässjning i Gissle i juli 1963. Fr.v. Jenny Månsson och Annie Månsson. De hässjar höet på rundhässjor. De är bättre när det regnar mycket. Modellen skall ursprungligen har kommit från Strömma i Sätila. Fotograf Dagny Bengtsson. Björketorps sockens hembygdsförening.

The summer heat holds you by the throat
and presses you against its white endless
walls. The days floats away unwritten and
at night you are kept awake worried in your
bed’s twisted, sweaty sheets. So my friend,
now we got July! You are safely lulled and
wrapped into these floating summer days,
as if they forever will be. And winter cold is
just like a story told, no one to believe. I’ll
tell you how the story went: he vanished in
silence just like a dreamy and yet vaporized
snowflake somewhere over the vast sea –
that I never got to see. He may become to
a pale memory of what could have been.
What’s left is only a wonder as winter feed.





My son leaves my home on June 30, to hike the last vacation week back home to work in Stockholm


This entry was posted in loss, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, walk of life, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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