the grass was wet that night
it shimmers
beneath the soft glow
and a faint echo
from far across the field
calls out to me
reminds me of a poem

I cannot remember if I read it or heard it
all I know is that it is familiar
like the taste of water
a gust of oxygen
and the smell of night

the voices grew louder
something is in the orchard tonight

the creek still sleeps
so do the dogs
I grab my flashlight
headed towards the noise
under the wet hot night
even I still shiver

when I see the glow of eyes