frogs

the sun hides behind the dark mountain
a low murmur seeps into my silent soul
the familiar chill of evening covers me

mosquitos hum their high notes
and the languid stars gradually appear
upon the blue-black washed sky

there, the waltz of the moon
continues among the stellar crowd
the organic night comes to life

unseen, in the shadows their talk
turns into song, i meditate to the drone
of late spring, early summer

and by morning light their chorus
fades to become scattered distant croaks
replaced by the ensemble of birds, bugs

Thanks for the comments.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s