flutter and buzz
just above the flowers —
summer running out

now we can pick out
individual voices —
crickets dwindling

bright ball of the moon
coming up over the treeline
one more time

day's end — 
the whine of a mosquito
somebody let in

new haircut — 
the way maples looked ragged
after the cicadas

bracing myself for
the big step down to the dock —
late summer drought

iridescent flash —
the throat of a hummingbird
as she turns to go

out of the west
a gust of wind carrying
goldfinch song to us

late August —
the sun knocks off early
again

just before the sound
of thunder drawing near —
the sighing of trees

another day 
of watching the clouds darken —
we were promised rain

little feet turning
the birdbath water purple —
pokeberry season

when we see the fox
there is a moment that feels
like surprise, like relief

invisible thread —
we turn to each other
with corn silk smiles

August heatwave  —
deep yellow rudbeckia
bleaching in the sun

old camp songs
curled up in the embers
waiting on a breath

hearing the crickets
through the open windows —
cooler nights at last

flower to flower —
I try in vain to follow
a swallowtail

I bring my dad back
so I can show him the ways
our boy is like him

in the front garden
brighter than any flower —
busy goldfinches

spiraling upward
first monarchs of the season 
leaving our rest stop

vacation photos —
the edge of the ocean
the wide of the sky

beyond the trees
past the last train's whistle —
climbing near-full moon

flip turns 
as I approach the wall —
planning for the glide

letting myself think
about the damp curls
at the back of her neck

strawberry season —
approaching each bent stalk with
anticipation

rolling thunderheads
just passing through again —
brown grass looking on

no escape —
every conversation
returns to the heat

swing set memories —
his little legs pumping him
further and further

together we try
to watch the hummingbird —
looking where it was

two old crickets
sawing away in the heat —
not tired yet!