La Fête d’Août
By Kate McHugh
A hearkening to hurry leaves
swimsuits strung on a wire fence,
crispening like autumn seeds.
The clap of cheap sandals on tarmac,
a serenade of the sun’s descent
dozing low towards the skyline.
A quiet preparation out of sight,
doors of the village hall
open as though never closed.
The rising hum of conversation,
cricket colonies camping together
in the season of reunion.
A golden glint on proud shoulders,
a village under his wing
singing more beautiful than bees.
The scent of paella and wine,
purpling stains on paper cloth
spreading like memories merging.
A clamber of children hold their heads
high to witness heaven bursting,
firework fingers waving farewell.
Kate McHugh
Kate McHugh is a 24-year-old writer from Galway, Ireland. With a degree in Creative Writing, English and French, she is currently teaching English in a university in Nantes, France. Previously published in ROPES, Southword, and Drawn to the Light Press, her principal desire is to publish a collection of poetry and auto-fiction.
Photo credit: Cristina Gottardi
Apricot Press 