It’s waking up to darkness
Framing drawn shades
Rather than a hint of gray
That stirs awareness
Of the change

Early afternoon brings
Hot winds to rap in restless agitation
Against the same window
Shades wound up tightly
Against the uppermost part of the frame

Looking out I see one branch
No
Maybe two or three
Dressed splendidly in bright yellows
While the rest remain rich and green
In the deepening shadows

August cicadas drone unerringly
As they lie hidden within the safety
Of the changing leaves
All the while the sun dips down
Caressing patchy grass and bright happy flowers

Summer sleeps earlier these days
While Autumn draws ever near