It is Fall.

Nights are different now,

They are quiet.

The locust waves of cascading songs have gone,

A high shrill but quiet insect calls

for hours, “Is anyone still out there?”

A few others make staccato chirps

But all in all, it is Fall.

The sun still warms us on a walk,

But sunsets happen earlier,

and soon, the leaves will turn, and fall,

Good night all.

cfblack, 9-15-2023

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