Listen!
FIVE SEASONS King Curtis blows his Soul Serenade. Summer daisies and junebugs in--second night of heat. Crickets and whippoorwill calling, stars steady, high. Below, fireflies dance the treetops, then take the trunks down, spread out through the pasture. Love blinks as if random, as if everywhere. The sax blows and trills and blows. There is a dark no one sees but you. Eyes open, eyes closed. Five seasons, and then you go.