Westinghouse Park Preprandial, 2020
The sights and sounds of summer’s civil twilight,
from June’s full moon to August’s august mood,
adjust in time with masked walks taken out,
right from home to head for former Solitude.
In June the darkness twinkles down the ridge
with childhood fireflies lashing through the night
and tiny conies fearless in their ignorance
and bats that flutter drunk across the sky.
The August air turns cool and hints of fall.
The field of lightning bugs has fade away.
Cicadas shake to make familiar calls in
Cryptic code. An old communiqué:
The season recapitulates the life.
The table set with bread, beside the knife.