Summer evening

August

I listen
and hear birds settling down to sleep,
dry leaves rustling in an evening breeze,
dogs barking and a motorbike
driving away into the distance.

One late bee rushes past to bed

I see the sky changing to night
and lights going on indoors
and smell the earth, summer flowers
and faintly – sweet cut hay left to dry

The wind is a summer wind
warm and playful but
there is a nothingness
which leaks out into what i see
sitting on the warm wooden stairs
which hardens the edges
and a sadness
anticipating
autumn winds
soughing through the trees.

m.joy

 

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