Vicissitude

A summer night, too hot for sleep

and comfort; our campfire burns down

to ash and ember, black and red, glowing;

and a wisp of smoke rises, a slow curl climbing

toward a scrim of sky, an obscured backlight

fading, dimming to darkness, now starlit,

preparing us for summer’s performance

played out on an Elysium stage of stars and moon,

well rehearsed, this formidable cast of players,

an entertainment meant to amuse and enlighten.