Between

The rain has stopped. Strewn, battered rose petals fleck the lawn, which they share with bright water beads that reflect the moon, lately emerged. Day was gray and blustery, night is cold and still. The quiet is broken only by the croaking frogs. Earlier there were crickets, but the chill has silenced them, as night has silenced the birds who sang the veiled sun down.

Something probably moves in the woods, but too quietly for me to hear. A bat might fly, but would remain night's secret. My shrunken world is the porch light's domain, and the dark masses of trees barely distinguishable from the dark sky except where the moon's light lends damp needles a slight shimmer. Even though the rain has stopped, the world feels drowned, engulfed in this damp darkness. I close my eyes and float.

( Sunday Verse )