Midges

Mere nothings-in-particular
pocking windscreens on hot, booming days;
over long stretches of half-rain
curved smears under a wiper.
Or a host of them whirling past headlights,
their harmless darkness
utterly seen through
as they dance
towards sea-drenched wastes …
Us they affect only by chance
and we are quite tangential to them—
moving objects intruding
on delicate dust storms,
nudging a drift of air,
crystal flash in a moonless night.