First Evening in Fall

A call grows thick in the trees,
with uncounted throngs of frogs
or insects. Today is the first
day of fall, though summer still heaves
a pregnant sun across the sky.
A cool undercurrent is carrying in
my first Virginia winter.

The austerely unkempt citizens
of the DC metro, in their busy repose.
They unfurl ironic bluegrass melodies down
the main drag of green spaces
designated for communal rest.
They come together and breathe
a chorus of sighs. It is strange
to the uninitiated. I watch the daylight
dwindling under an impassive fleet
of cumulonimbus. Alone.
The far away, happy din.