Here in the night
among the stars
the song of crickets
uninterrupted
like summer storms
or wild fire.

Us entangled,
two nets meshed
and stretched around a ring
into dream catcher
to fetch the best thing
you've never seen.

In the night,
bright and shining,
when all the lights dying
finally died,
we fed each other blind
new picked fruit
from the last and grandest tree
we found ourselves,
in the dark,
left tethered to.

We waited in the night, hands clasped
for the stars to come back
and the light to return to the dew,
as we well knew
it might do.