An anxious rooster crows into the dark— co-co-ri-có! Light is late, and the dogs already play in the first dry leaves of this cool summer morning.
By noon the sun gets lazy and takes a shortcut in the sky, like a pig after feasting on grain. The lukewarm herding winds shoo the sun behind the clouds, where rain flocks down like angry geese to peck me on the head— tick, tick, tick.
Summer has come and gone, and I still haven’t found you.