Don\'t interpret the light\'s
reach, on the longest
pain of summer.
There was no chaste tree
left for giving you shade
to sit and meditate.
You will not miss
a perfect sleep at dawn with
song birds sailing over your head.
A green snake has
dropped its skin bearing the trail
to copycat the detachment.
The backache returns
to dig out the hot moon
from the dark bushes.
I will sit and wait at the deck
for the cool fireflies to appear.