Natures Music
Quail whistles Bob White,
As crickets strum their leggy tunes.
A moth flits, drawn to the porch light,
Its delicate wings brushing against the glow.
Above the moonless sky,
Twinkles a celestial canvas, painted with stars.
Did those distant suns tumble earthward?
The valley responds, aglow with firefly.
Is this symphony meant for me?
The coyote’s howl echoes through the night,
And the barn owl joins in,
Its hoot a secret delight.
Yet the mouse,
Caught in the owl’s grasp,
Seems less enchanted.
mark
Mark 1982
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