LATE IN THE SEASON

Long shadows and a stillness in the air

In early August evenings, late in the season

While the August sun is still high in the west

Feels like autumn, but it isn’t.

The trees are still green

The air warm, sometimes hot

Despite the long, lingering shadows

And the sun long in the west

This melancholy season, this afternoon early evening

This time of year, time of day

Is mine and my melancholy

This late adulthood of my life

A life well-lived in turmoil, ecstasy, and joy

It is not depression responding to the season

Nor the memory of regret

It is a fond summation of it all

Waning season, waning day, waning life

Calling to mind the waning of it all

Waning ages and the summation of what they were

Late Egypt and its Sun King, before its conquest

Or Rome and its philosopher king before the invasions

Or Europe and the glorious cathedral building before the Reformation wars

Knowing now they were destined for disintegration, disruption, destruction

Swan song, summer, late in the season, late in adulthood

Long shadows while the August sun is still high in the sky

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