Karen M. Rice
ONCE MORE THIS NIGHT
Once more this night I stood out on the balcony. The moon had risen higher, draped in more silken clouds. The night lay about my shoulders, draped like a cloak. The river made not a sound, gently slipping by. A small fountain tinkled merrily upon the grassy lawn. The tree frog and cricket sounds were faint, somewhere across the water. From the woods that lined the shore came a coyote’s piercing howl. The wild called out to civilization, and it was answered back by the throaty yelps of domestic dogs somewhere along the bank. The night lay about me, and time stood still.
©Copyright September 27, 2010 by Karen M. Rice