Summer Evening Blues

Smooth jazz, iced decaf

warm, humid, windless hour before dusk

I am perched beneath a sheltering canopy

and a thousand grey clouds ready to burst

Ash trays on empty tables

vacant chairs for no company

A tall girl with an orange barrette

her short, white, cotton dress ruffling out

just above the top of her pale, thin thighs

walks silently through double doors

Nothing else moves but prairie grass

planted for atmosphere

two feet from yellow-covered power lines

and an endless parade of cars driven by the faceless

For one moment I don’t care

I am a sullen child craving succor from external saviors

I ache for autumn