Dark Drifts In Poem by Midnight Clarity

Dark drifts in,
the taste of evening
heavy on the air;
the frogs a wall of whistles
up and down to scale,
while bats are supersonic
swoops of shadow,
dark rags against
the darkening sky.
Heat shimmers,
ankle deep,
above the pavement,
all full of biting creatures
seeking after blood
leaving itch in payment
for their drink, disturbed
by citronella, peppermint
and lime but loving blue
and sweat as if it were
an invitation to the feast.
Day closes down its petals
light retreats to pools,
bright puddles in the darkness
and there's an end
and a beginning
a death, a birth, the yin the yang
the measured balance
of the moment
that hovers on eternal
expectation yet never comes.