August

There's a surprising amount of noise for all the quiet.

Driving with the windows down, I hear crickets and katydids and cicadas and crickets.

(Did you know an SUV can take truck tires as well as plain old car tires? I did not.)

This SUV has truck tires. I can hear them too.

I hum along with the tires and the bugs and I think This Night Is Heavy.

Reckless.

There was a time when a heavy night equaled

Reckless.

When it signified

Potential.

I don't know why the moon hurtles its chalky orb into the sky with such a quickness now.

Or why it is August again and again and again so fast Too Fast I say.

I look for you who knew me before.

If you could be here now, to know me now

But not a one has come with me from low tide to high.