Walking on a Late August Night
Aug 30 2026
The cloud crept in at dusk
like a well-quilted comforter
with plenty of loft,
containing the warmth
of a clear summer day
all night long.
It was T-shirt weather
beneath the overcast,
but felt uncomfortably claustrophobic
in the darkness of a starless sky
where the full moon
was just a lighter smudge.
It’s as if the world had closed in on itself,
reduced to this small contained space;
a ceiling
I can almost reach up and touch,
and cloud
curving down to earth
at the end of my gravel lane.
I should feel protected here
— lightly dressed
late at night
walking alone —
not suffocated
in the closeness
beneath this formless overcast
of insubstantial vapour.
How I pine for a crisp fall night
the crystalline skies of winter.
The bite of a north wind,
and thick cozy clothes
to burrow into.
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