Evening settles in as the moon shines on the cheeks of tomatoes still ripening in the warmth of yesterday’s sun

Canning jars glisten with the expectation of children running down the hall to the kitchen

Steam curls out of the kettle on the stove

She contemplates the chamomile she is too tired to stand and steep

Head resting in her hand

her elbow padded by this afternoon’s teabag

It won’t be long before the kettle sings from the wood stove just in reach

Tiny frogs chirp along the tree line

the last gasp before summer’s end

Photo: Ehedaya

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