the moon showed his face tonight.

he looks like a nice man.

i don’t think he is lonely.

i think he has the stars to talk to.

it must be beautiful up there.

there must always be good conversation.


the cicadas are singing a song tonight.

even the mosquitos are happy to sit and listen.

i can hear the highway behind my ears, but i know the cicadas must not mind.

i tend to think they are more than happy to share the stage.

life tends to be more than a solo, after all.


the breeze is good tonight.

if i turn my head just to the right i can feel the wind dance across the top of my ears.

the crowd is cheering.

i can’t see the cheers, but i can hear them.

i know they are there.


the moonshine is beaming tonight.

i can see it at the bottom of the pool and if i push my foot down gently enough it feels almost like a pillow.

it all seems a bit too rosie to be true.

in a perfect world, moonshine would shine all of the time.

oh well.


the world is a canvas and i am lucky enough to be painted into it.


– in a pool, 10:02 on a wednesday night, summer

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