Last Days of Summer

You can feel it. Long and slow. The heat, the leaf, the locusts in the treetops, singing for rain.

High and low, crescendo and allegro.

Soaking in the kiddie pool, we all know. It’s the lack of purpose, the sense that soon it will be over that makes us lazy. Malaise.

Paper leaves, withered by drought, fall, and it reminds me of Fall. Behind the heat, beyond the cloudless bleached sky there hides crisp nights, early morn schedules, wrapped sandwiches, student backpacks. Hecticity.

But, for now, we sit and sweat and close our eyes while rubbing a glass of sweet tea along the edge of our jaw.