Hanging in the summer silence....
Nothing.
A tiny mouse of the sky passes by.
Snatching midges in full flight.
The presence of a late summer night.
Bonfire crackling.
The aura of brightness.
Dead wood redressed.
The fire dances.
A little like an evening witch.
Wearing melting nets.
Chunks of old wood.
No use anymore.
Burning to perfection.
Ashes.
Eyelashes of dead-end wood.
Heart of the evening.
All well.
It's good.
The fire dies.
The bat retreats.
See you again tiny chap.
Same time.
Same place.
Maybe next week.
(c)Livvi