silence from the cicadas
this Autumnal day
A thirst for more than water
beside a vessel more than full
Still, the weight. An unseen sorrow, an ennui. Too many days in this den? Too much stifling heat or suffocating humidity? Or is it the ambitious expectations too high to meet: a new journal barely scribbled in, a serial of travel posts undone?
Or the inevitable, seasonal turn toward Autumn?
Coolness prevailed yesterday and reigns today. The cricket choirs and Katydid accompanists fill the growing nights. Tinges of yellow appear on the crabapple leaves.
A deep sorrow, born of clinging to the transitory. How we desperately hold on to what passes away.
Instead of breathing, bowing, and letting go.
an overcast sky
pen a mournful dirge
for summer’s end
Adirondack and Green Mountains
so far away this year
Real Toads’ The Tuesday Platform (imagined by Sanaa Rizvi)