POEM 17

Night falls and the sky is stygian, until stars appear like pin holes of light.

The chartreuse shrouded moon makes me homesick for some low lit room.

The shrill call of locusts fills the night like a siren. I grasp the darkness and shake it for fireflies.

Sleep is evasive and the deck beckons me. Peer upward it urges. Crickets fall silent and traffic sounds fill the void, muddying the summer ambience.

I try to reach up and grab a hunk of night, before clouds gathering in the west spread, blinding the moon and shutting off the stars . As I skirt the edge of midnight  waiting for storms to arrive in the declining hours of the morning, grumbling and flashing intermittent  lightning ,like furtive glances, I can’t manage a yawn.

I won’t begrudge it the sweeping downpour that washes the world. I’ll find comfort in the darkness, I’ll find joy in all the rain.