Thick night air
humidity hanging low,
creating cones of moisture
below the street lights.
Crickets charm their mates lazily,
thunder rumbles in the distance,
and lightning jumps from cloud to cloud,
like children jumping on a bed.
The world sleeps around me
as I listen to and observe
the end of summer.
One thought on “Poem 16”
I love the lushness of this poem’s descriptions, and how palpable the humidity feels. As someone who grew up in the Midwest, I can absolutely relate to how you depict summer. Good work!