The moon, our conductress of a late evening orchestra
Last customers leaving a late night bistro. Hugs and waves and good night kisses.
The clink of plates and glasses being cleared away. The chatter of the credit card machine.
Purple pulsing music blaring out of a zebra striped gin mill,
accompanied by the thick raspy voice of cigarette smoke.
A black cat scampers across the street. Listen. Can you hear her?
Cars with solitary drivers, headed home....... or somewhere.
Sprinklers shower rain songs in the park.
Stars twinkling, a light show in perfect time with the music.
The trees having tea, visiting, while us humans head into our beds
Their leaves and branches catch up on the news of the day.
|Thursday Dance Moon|
Soft breathing of a beloved, not quite snoring
Pen scratching on this page
Listen for the music of the night sounds.
Let the moon coax you into sleep.