It’s the sound that glistens,

in the late afternoon.

Like the echo of the cicadas

beating out their wishful rhythms.

Everything fails, even daylight.

It’s putting up a punchy fight.

But lost today; lost tonight.

Nose dripping; resigned, enliven. 

An inky sprawl, as the cloud strokes

merge, each one entwines,

with my soul, then submerged.

And I look up, resist the urge to cry.

(no, don’t cry)

As it falls into the chasm again,

a naked silence all around.

It’s like time has stopped 

yet the earth keeps spinning.