August 19

The awful penetrating silence
Of
Tree frogs
And crickets
Like a hum
Like a
Depravation chamber
Dark
I stand
Making love to
A
Cigarette
I flick
It dies
Alone
In the street
Like a love grown cold
So old but so fresh
I still feel it like the cool air of summer passing away
Afraid to wake
To face solitude
Afraid to slumber
The darkness and I alone