The sidewalk shone and glittered,
Under the gaze of the moon.
The crickets' endless singsong
Had followed them since June.
The crunching of plants
And the yelping of dogs,
And the glowing of lights
And the singing of frogs,
And the blinks and winks
Of distant starshine
Trailed them as they walked.
The heady scent of night
Was deep and blue.
It stuck to their clothes and skin,
And it pooled beneath their shoes.
Quiet steps
And whisp'ring clouds,
Lonely lights
And shimm'ring shrouds
And the brights and whites
Of summer midnight
Crowned them as they talked.
The darkness
Paved a shimmering path
To a quiet world
Brushed with sighs and silver.
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
The sidewalk shone and glittered,
Under the gaze of the moon.
The crickets' endless singsong
Had followed them since June.
The crunching of plants
And the yelping of dogs,
And the glowing of lights
And the singing of frogs,
And the blinks and winks
Of distant starshine
Trailed them as they walked.
The heady scent of night
Was deep and blue.
It stuck to their clothes and skin,
And it pooled beneath their shoes.
Quiet steps
And whisp'ring clouds,
Lonely lights
And shimm'ring shrouds
And the brights and whites
Of summer midnight
Crowned them as they talked.
The darkness
Paved a shimmering path
To a quiet world
Brushed with sighs and silver.
I kind of want to call it a tone poem, but oddly enough, I'm pretty sure that term only applies to music. Oh well.