Before the Fall

Early September,

the sky is overcast,

a cerulean glow

of green-orange.

The cars on 

the highway below

are merely

metal ghosts

carrying cargo.

The sun wavers

beyond clouds

scattered of jet-smoke

and unshed rain.

I watch from

a bench,

made smooth by

too many seasons:

how the grass

bows against breeze

then dances back

to life again as

the late-summer cicadas

break into a 

crescendo of chorus.

©Stacy Stevens