Summer fell from the buds like petals
Insects whirring in long green grass
Lightning flashes a warning of storms
As thunder follows at the speed of sound.
Evening hours on the porch.
Drinking glasses of summer wine.
A book open on the table.
Next to my cedar chair.
The sky stays brighter
As the longest daylight
Crawls towards us.
Even in the gardens of summer
The days will creep slowly shorter.