In the peacefulness of a summer night.
Sounds seem louder.
I hear a moth flying into a light bulb.
Over and over again.
He doesn't quite get it.
But maybe he knows more than I assume.
He's persistent. I'll give him that.
The twang of a guitar the next street over.
And the glow of a campfire against the trees.
People talk, and laugh.
Summer means you're free.
Brother bullfrog out at the pond.
Singin songs long and low.
Heavy sounds from an old soul.
He knows what's going down.
Crickets in the yard.
And quiet up when I come outside.
Power lines won't buzz til morning.
They just bide their time.