it’s hard to believe how close we are
to autumn
but the birds
are hunkered down within the canopy
feeling their molt
the vibrant forest, the wild grass
that skirts this overgrown road
will fade and wither
as the sky dulls
and the goldfinches
lose their gleam
you have to hold onto life while you can,
onto the full thrust of it
in the saturated vibrancy of late August
when the heat hangs in the air
like a shroud
as the mosquitoes drill for oil
in your veins
you have to hold on
soon, the chill will return
turning the forest to stone