In Stillness

Pulsing, raucous cicada song
announces the demise of summer
as thirsty trees litter the ground with the unessential

Message rises from wooded path
through souls of feet to subconscious...
change is coming

All is at rest...waiting
dragonfly wings beat slower, softer
hover lazily over water
no more darting and skirting the surface
causing tiny ripples that never quite reach the banks

Stillness has settled in
throwing a blanket of anticipation across my shoulders

Lying in deep darkness
breathing in the night sky
will I witness the change
or will it flow unseen on
autumn-tinged air?