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.
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