summer passing

august is getting so
long in the tooth
that the grasshopper’s song
can barely be heard
over the scritch of stalk on leaf.
I’m not ready
for the geese to rise
the afternoons to purple
into dusk
for the maple and sumac to burst
into flame –
this year
I think I’ll slip
into the smoke
and hide
until the school bus disappears
over the hill

-Kathryn Boswell

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