Laughter bubbles up, spilling into an iridescent night,
The nighttime shades of black and maroon wash away in the glow of giggles,
It is a small pocket of happiness in the otherwise empty darkness.

Trees huddle over the circle of friends, listening in on hushed conversations,
Stories told over an imaginary campfire, and foolish faces passed around,
Silly words are mixed into the tumbled mess of limbs.

Wrapped around each other are these friends; strangers mades friends,
Worries stolen away in the fresh, innocent face of night,
The temporary pocket of calm seems that it might just last eternally.