Butterflies float above the drying
monarda and black-eyed Susans,
while bees hover among them,
probing lavender blossoms that stud
stalks rising from lamb’s ears, their
industry a reminder of the coming fall.
The day is quickly fading. Soon bats
will stitch swooping lines above me
outlined in the glare from streetlights.
Pines massed along the fence row
are becoming indistinct, branches
hanging to the ground, few stars above.
My wife is away, visiting family.
We have not spoken since she left.
For now, I stand barefoot in the grass,
savoring solitude, nightfall, place;
regretting my marriage won’t bloom again.
Kevin D. Norwood has had work appear in Broken Plate, DASH, District Lit, Edison Literary Review, Evening Street Review, Iowa Review, Litbreak, Magnolia Review, Nashville Review, Natural Bridge, The Opiate Magazine, Plainsongs, Soundings East, Stonecrop Magazine, Streetlight Magazine, Tulane Review, and many other journals.