Sitting listening to the sounds of a spring night.
Watching as an orange moon rises slowly into sight.
Crickets chirp, a whiporwill calls, in this country place.
In the distance hounds are baying, eager for the chase.
All the creatures of the night from their beds now rise.
As the creatures of the day close their weary eyes.
Quite nearby I hear wings move with a rapid beat,
Then the last squeak of a mouse who meets death from taloned feet.
I retire to my home to prepare for sleep,
Leaving to the night whatever secrets it might keep.
A cool breeze plays over me, through the window it streams.
As I silently drift off into the world of dreams.

04/03/1991

Posted on 05/22/2004
Copyright © 2024 Charles M Harrison