Markers

A withered leaf of winter twisted dry and brown in summer wind.
Raindrops pelted fragile skin; shaking and breaking the clinging stem.
And it twirled to the ground midst thunder and lightning unseen.
There, the skeleton of winter past; crumpled; dead upon the green.

Outside a tiny house with all the windows lit at four; coyotes howl.
Sirens scream through the early hours before traffic starts to prowl.
The inhabitant, settled like dust on window sills into his nook,
waits the first bird song wrapped in perfume of ancient books.

Transient markers of seasons passed are wrinkles in the brow;
falling leaves that with the breeze take flight again somehow.
Barely noticed on the lawn when summer has raised the fields
And heat has choked the yellow spring from cups of daffodils

A Summer Night

Lights flicker on like fireflies at dusk
Sun sets and settles in brick dust evening
A red haze fades into grey and then night
I count windows and streets by their lights

There’s romance in the warm summer air
Stars are playing hide and seek in the clouds
Distant traffic drone overpowered by a cricket’s chirp
Honeysuckle drifts with Carolina jasmine

A night like this was meant for lovers
It brings an old man wistful memories
Somewhere cars are parked on lover’s lane
Couples cuddled will wake to early rain

I can see heat lightning in the distant sky
I never hear the thunder though I listen for awhile
Just a barking dog and coyotes at play
Sounds of night are drowned by day

It’s pensive but sweet; this melancholy night
Stirring the mind and heart with warm fingers
Like perfume on a pillow when a lover has left
I am satisfied now but desire still lingers

Softly, softly, almost imperceptible
The music fades into a gentle quiet
Sighs of longing are replaced by yawning
And I drift to dream in the summer night