end-summer
as you walk into a backyard
late in summer following sunset
you feel the cool grass on your feet
even though you wear shoes
as a damp chill seeps through
the air of this unfolding night
you see flowers in gray and black
tumble toward you from hedge-rows
as they lean out from white
weathered fences and you smell
hints of wood-smoke and the last
full fragrances of roses permeate
the last warm breath of day
as tiny lights flicker in dark
foliage above clandestine crickets
you understand that this is all
there will be to this interval
with the insect hum and firefly magic
of another summer to come