It’s Right On Time

It's the beginning of August, and as always, the thickness has crept in.
It's right on time.
Like it always is.

The rain that fell last night is sizzling off the driveway
and evaporates like creepy little swamp clouds.

Afternoon air is heavy, full, and humid.
The thickness is like walking through black strap molasses.

The sounds at night in August are thicker too.
The hum of my window fan softens the buzzing
of the cicadas and crickets. How does their sound
feel damp and muggy?

I swat at pesty little insects that seem
more annoying when I am sticky with sweat.
They didn't bother me this much in June.
I am more agitated in the thickness.

But, I do not wish the thickness of August away.
I sit with it.
I get lazy with it.
I let the weeds grow higher than they should.
I let myself get lost in a book without thinking about the pile
of dishes in the sink because I know the thickness will lift.

It will be right on time.
Like it always is.