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
Leave a comment