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art Nature nature poems

Night Is Getting Married

The wind plays with my humble village
When creatures of day crawl back home,
The imminent storm tells no one of his arrival
Young goats call to their mothers,
And crying babies listen to the whine
The barn is quiet but for the noisy wind
The windows shake and rooftops dance
Clouds are dark, no stars, no light
Even the fireflies knew better
The cane sugar leaves are scary
For when the lightning flash on them
They stood like fiery masquerades
The night is young, she is wooed by the wind
All that is left is to hear their love story rain

2 replies on “Night Is Getting Married”

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