summers passing

Late summer nights like weak tea

sunset dipping down

August moon alight

fireflies sparkle about

touching flitting not ready to stop

frenetically playing their games before summers end

summer nights casting shadows where black cats lurk

Hide and scamper under starry skies piercing the blackness

I emerge from the cool catacombs of air conditioned rooms and sink into

the freedom of breeze and bugs and feel as though I’ve missed something

of this day.

Summer’s flipping by fast-closing it’s final chapters.