frogs "croaking" in front of me, in the reeds crickets "chirping" behind me, in the brush countless coyotes "yelping" from across the lake bass, carp surfacing under a yellow moon unaware its shimmering shaftβs a magnet to my eyeΒ Β andΒ more lullaby to me, who can yet see spectral waves but lost cherished vibrations--like birdsong, winsome whispers--eons ago