Eden

Summer’s symphony fills the air.
The crickets leap and warble at the moon.
Sweet August: flowers in my hair.

An owl unfurls his wings with regal flair.
Two more upon the rooftop gutters croon.
Summer’s symphony fills the air.

The night awakes; from stream and lair
Emerge the frog and ringed raccoon.
Sweet August: flowers in my hair.

A moth bathes in a street lamp’s glare,
Of which she dreamt from her cocoon.
Summer’s symphony fills the air,

And I sit humming in my chair,
Adding to the night my human tune.
Sweet August: flowers in my hair.

Such nights do not afford despair,
Although the Fall will chill us soon.
Summer’s symphony fills the air.
Sweet August: flowers in my hair.