The shadow knows

 

As we endure another

late summer heat wave

I sit and ponder

these end days of summer

ants swarming

flying about on the backs of mosquitoes

I'm bitten in too may places to count

days like a bad cup of coffee

grounds too stale

maybe old milk

not bad enough to throw out

but not something to write a sonnet about

Fall just around the corner

I can hear it singing

in the shadows