August Interlude

The warm night air sits
still and surrounds
all the ripened stalks
and fully opened flowers;
petals dangling in
a final vitality.

Heavy branches swoon
insect-laden air as lower leaves
begin a first yellowing of many
transitions to come;
hunger abated.

A ground saturated in
summer rain lingers
under plush, trampled
long, strewn grasses.

Songs of summer still
hang suspended in the air
as if exuded from molecules
of all that new life blooming,
bursting forth;

The mellow airborne honey
is inhaled and sticks in my throat;
its story enters my bloodstream
as groggy cognition.

Why does it seem like
this will last forever --
everything seems stuck,
reluctant to go past as if
it desires to remain
and be reflected in a
permanent moonglow
of Summer's signature
late in its life;
aware of its maturity,
awash in experience.

     .....