I crave the sunset these days
the squawking of blue jays
who visit after hazy heat dips
into the drawer of tomorrow
leaving us to wonder
what she’ll find there

Those silvery chatterboxes get it
all off their chests in the cooler air
‘who’s got the seed? where’s
that cat? where’s this?
where’s that?’ sore throats
I bet as they dart back
to their nests at last
near the quiet
lilac bush

I sway on the patio
rocker, swatting away
mysterious no-see-’ems
waiting for a weld to rise
on my wrist and for Jupiter
in the east, it was too cloudy
to see him last night
as close as he is
this month

The moon politely interrupts
the fresh night, just a whisper
as if to ask ‘Excuse me, may I
rest here for a moment?’ I say
‘Yes, of course,’ and imagine
that he too can see inside
that bureau and knows
what the sunken sun
found there.

Image from unspash.com

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