Friday haiku 95

Windows wide open
The sun surreptitiously
Lowers its angle

Cicada rhapsody

Summer dies reluctantly
Last call for crickets
Singing halfheartedly

Certainty comes only of ignorance
In such wilderness as this
Each hand grasps another
Until it all tumbles in unison

Ah, the carnage
In the style of exiles
So self-consciously
We sail on the edge of winter