the dark espresso of aether

Late August again, frogs in the trees, katydids too, gryllus on the ground, click click click chirrrrrip chirrrrup chirp chirp some more, overlapping cries of wanton passion, they make the darkness deep and this moment meaningful. They all are. The moments. The insects. There is no way to save them, the crickets will soon be gone, their eggs under the soil the frogs overwintering somewhere soft and muddy. August slides into September, the smell of new textbooks and the sudden appearance of friends, from every corner of the Earth, with stories to tell of time misspent, drugs done, lovers conquered, pets fed. Life, like the foam on a cappuccino so insubstantial so translucent over wonderful power in the deep. These moments I can almost, abetted by the crickets, see through the foam, to the black, the endless espresso dark spine of the universe that unites us all in caffeine, like cave fish, like black monkeys, like deep sea fish...