Just finish these

Ending of this summer day.
Insects are skimming the water.
What is left of the light,
not lost to the clouds.
Randomly catches their wings.

One does landed on this page.
Wishing to be part of this poem.
No, tap of the notebook.
It leaves, no seen mark, only
my words of this moment.
To be left in or to be let go
as the light has done with the water.

One dragonfly sitting on a rock.
Has left somewhere, flying somewhere
I catch the ending and go inside.
Then decide how to write this day.


*****

Is there?
a crescent tonight.
Lately time flies
like the clouds
after yesterday storm.
And the calender
this year, has no
hidden new moon
a single crescent
or the full moon
to mark out
the time on pages.
Only numbers
contented to march
in order. I once
would like to change
to break, the sameness
of the summer day.
Permitting the thunderstorm
to put it all back.

I just finish up tonight.They only been sitting around for 3 years