The screen door slams—a sharp clack

The screen door slams—a sharp clack

cutting through the thick, humid air.

Wind sneaks in through the bent metal mesh,

rustling leaves and summer heat.

That sudden sound, a punctuation

marking moments I didn’t know were ending.

Outside, cicadas drone—a steady hum,

but inside, the slam echoes,

a startled breath held tight,

a brief, bright crack

before the quiet returns.