Classic Poem

That summer, as I remember, no rain fell;
The swamp grass snarled like thread;
The clay cracked in the narrow channel bed;
There was a livid crust in every well
And a dead smell.

Birds scuffled in the dust and gasped a little
And died like leaves; light blared,
Beat cymbals, reverberated; women stared
Stonily at nothing; talk went brittle;
Dogs licked their spittle.

That summer, as I remember, love was lust!
And even lust recoiled
From the black kiss, harsh and sullen and soiled.
Two watched a dream sour with a strange rust
And turn to dust.