The mosquitoes and gnats are
Joined by countless other
Winged beasts
They pepper the air like a misplaced
And confused
Light snow
Whose flakes haven’t the courage to
Fall to the ground
So dart, directionless, through the air

We wallow in the
Long hours of sunlight
Lapping up every decadent minute

In a mere hour or two
The light will change
Not quite day and not quite night
The birds of summer will
Quit their song and
Leave the skies

These are the moments
Made for bats
Whose form is elusive but
Flight patterns distinct
Only the bat knows the path and
The bounty to be found in its
Jagged lines and daredevil swoops

As the air cools
The trees come alive with song to
Partner with the bat’s acrobatics
The sweet chirps of the birds of daylight are
Replaced by the
Clacks, squeaks, and whistles of
Cicadas, tree frogs, and katydids

The near-nightly storm
Works itself into a
Booming beast in the distance
The sky, now dark, comes alive with
Sparks
And belches in upset
Having over-indulged in the day’s light
The night now pays for the
Gluttony of the day
Bolts of bright heat
Race across the sky
Emboldened by fury and longing
The more timid among them
Hide behind the
Dark, dank softness of the thunderhead
Allowing us voyeurs to make out the
Cloud’s voluptuous curves
From our bedroom hideout
Safely inside and seeing
As though through a one-way mirror

We drift off as the storm
Rages and builds
At the witching hour a
Great cackle and crack
Wakens us
A fair warning we should
Find ourselves moving to spaces below the earth
The womb of a basement or
The tomb of a cellar

Morning comes, the heat rising faster than
The sleeping children emerging from their
Subterranean haven
The sun smiles with hot rays highlighting the
Leaves and branches strewn about the yard
The last embarrassing evidence of the
Trees’ tremblings from the night before

The mosquitoes and gnats joined by
Countless winged beasts
Have beaten us outside and
Wait for us once again