The air is bare this evening

….

Sitting on a chair outside our bedroom 

looking up at the mountain ridge

…

There was a time

in the first week of May

when the sun was setting

…

behind the wooded ridge

the warm air shimmered

with insects in their millions

…

the sounds of Martins and Swifts

Swallows too feeding in the dimming light

and now the light is bare

…

and everything, the hours

and the day is still…

so quiet you know it’s not right

©robcullen10062022