I go outside to my wife’s van
to get the charging cord for
my phone that I took on vacation.
I had forgotten it for a day
and my phone’s battery and I
had registered its absence.
Lunch hasn’t been made for tomorrow,
the dogs need feeding and we 
had just cleaned out the van of
groceries that need to be put away.

A step outside the house, and
the air hits me, muggy with moisture,
heavy in my lungs. The clouds start
wisping away, showing first stars
in the growing twilight. A breath
of wind stirs the trees and lifts
leaves of the firecracker daylilies,
opening and wilting to spite my
abandonment the week before.
And just out of the corner of my eye
a lone firefly winks into existence,
it’s slow pattern telling me – 
Slow down before summer’s gone.