Poetry

My Perfect Night

There’s a bird out there, deep in the night

amongst silhouettes that stretch to a height,

It coos it’s own melody without hesitation

and the rest of the world listens in fascination,

For the sound is not loud, but tame and sweet,

And it reaches every corner of the Earth, no easy feat,

I sit here inside and look out beyond,

But all I see is moonlight and trees of which I am fond,

The sounds of the cars travel all around,

But nothing does blemish the persistent sound,

As I see crickets, bats, insects, flies,

the night around me begins to die

And the birds dart away, somehow shaken with fright

at the thought of the ending of my perfect night.