The sky glows after the hot afternoon
As if what is left of the day’s bright radiance
Is dissolved and fades upward
Into heaven’s evening pastels
The birds rouse from their stupor
And call but do not fly
And cicadas cry from tree and wire
How can they be so loud and yet invisible?
School is coming, they say
The children know
And beg for one more hour outdoors
To chase the fireflies.