Poem by N.L. Holmes
Light floods out the open door into the cashmere of an August night. Crickets pulse. A wind-up bat flits from black to black, a bee in ebon flower of blind flight– no darkness to the ear. And I, too, hear: a frog, a distant owl, the howl of neighbors' dog. Above, to me without my specs, the stars spin, fling pinwheels of flame, and Sagittarius lobs an arrow into the marrow of some far-off galaxy. No moon. The slumbering sky will hum morning into being soon. Behind, the brightness of my neat kitchen flares. Before unrolls the sable stole of summer air. My shadow is the only one.
N.L. Holmes is an archaeologist and author of thirteen historical novels set in antiquity. She has published poetry in Shark Reef, Poetry Breakfast, and elsewhere. She lives in France with her husband, two cats, and a barnyard full of big birds.
1 thought on “Summer Night”
Gorgeous imagery! Very lush descriptions, I can picture it so vividly 😄