Grayish blue morning

The summer’s in shades and stilled

Paused on this cliffside

The chimes in the yard -

Which I can still hear clearly

At the pool’s bottom.

Footprints washed away

From dogs and people and birds

Who only make more

The sagging fig tree

On the side of the highway

Breezed by and unpicked

Crickets, frogs and things

Bellowing through blades of grass

And through the dark air