It’s August

That month when we are between times

That time between steamy summer

And early

autumn’s chill

All around me I hear cicadian sound

A buzzing of life lived primarily in trees

Trees that provide blessed shade

Cooling from blazing, hot summer sun days

There is a rhythm all about us

The rhythm of daily life

Of seasons going and coming

Now a season on the edge of closure

A kind of cicadian rhythm is evidenced

Or is it a “circadian” rhythm?

D.J.Hausman-Hill

Lititz