warm breeze this morning like the night forgot to sweep yesterday’s hot air

mix a bone-dry summer with unending pails of fall rain and the invasion erupts   finding dark stages in house corners and cracks, they practice and practice their two-note violins   a background noise for some a sweet lullaby for others for a few, well   if you don’t fall asleep, it seems they approach an ear and serenade your insanity

that pair of weather-worn chairs on the front porch, kept at right angles for conversation, wait for what won’t happen   two butts snuggling to a stop two drinks raised to lips, that would take the time to talk about the world as it wanders by   they’d follow the lives of birds, squirrels, leaves and shadows, knew the sounds of dogs and children and to whom they belonged smelled flowers they knew and didn’t   a place where folks would sit and burrow into life, theirs’, others