The temperate divinities that mildly undergird the world
as middle-August slowly whiles and whirls its way to Autumn
soon induce a softer vehicle of change. Sometimes you’ll
hear them hum a range of alto harmonies to ease the season’s
passage out of heat: a sweeter beat, a glide – if it’s allowed
by clouds that don’t take as their wild bride a hurricane – toward
the promise of a habitable pause, the prospect of a journey’sgentle end. And for that moment, every sorrow will suspend.