In the stillness of the twilight,
A cicada sings his song,
Bullfrogs join the chorus,
At the start of the night so long.
Across the steeled waters,
Atop the mountains crest,
The sun is but a sliver,
As it lays itself to rest.
Sitting on the shoreline,
At the end of the weathered dock,
I can hear the barn owls hooting;
In the distance, a chiming clock.
Darkness slithers silently,
As a mist forms over the bay,
The moon is now on center stage;
Act 1 of the nighttime play.
I can hear the cattails applauding,
Anticipation's in the air,
As the first of many fireflies,
Dance with stylish flair.
Nature at its finest,
On this black velvet night,
Echoes of her orchestra,
Gone with the sun's first light.