the buzzy, warm light comes through the art-deco panes
colored yellow, orange, and purple
scattering across the floor
and the years of my childhood
accompanying it are the hum of August insects
locusts, crickets, bees
stir the silence of a hot summer evening
waiting for dinner to cook I recall fondly
the long days full of sunshine on your skin
and nights gathered on porches
each day a new chance for fun—
ride bikes, swim, and climb trees
hearing the screen door open and close with a slam
I remember heading out and not coming back
until hunger rolled us homeward for dinner
when the light lengthens through the perfectly stained glass
when it shines on the wooden floor with its soft, comforting hue
when dinner meant homemade burgers, chips, and a glass of milk
when there’s still so much summer left, but the school year is fast approaching
when the sun’s fading rays glimmer through the tree in the cemetery as it sets
as it has for an eternity
that’s when I know it’s August
the sagacious bee 