The tapping of the boots and the creaking of the wood
Walking in a darkly sheet on a midnight creep,
The singing of the cicadas,
The soft passing of cars,
Start to hum me to sleep.

The blinding street lamp
Lights a night sky still blue,
The trees gently sleep
with their leaves scattered but not rustled,
Hanging low on a summer night’s cool air,
I watch on top of the balcony
Down by the road, no one is there

A summer night’s sky which should be so lovely and so fair
This one, like me, its hue is so lonely and blue

The scenery so still begins to darken
And so softly still the cicadas sing
From the balcony, alone, I harken
And as softly, peace, it brings.