A chorus of cicadas
thrum through the darkness.
Beneath,
crickets fiddle.
Light flashes at the horizon;
tympanic thunder growls, menaces.
The ceiling fan, wheeling overhead,
ticks, ticks, ticks...
The oboe breeze, loose with coolness,
flows like longing across my skin.
This mid-August concerto
lulls me to sleep.
Text and image © 2023 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
Visit The60SecondSabbath.com, where spirit and image merge.