The Symphony of the Night

Lightning bugs flicker
Like drops of stardust
Floating on a summer breeze.
A nightingale calls
From its perch
Among the trees.
A weather-warped board
Creaks under the weight
Of a rocking chair.
The citronella candles
Gutter and spark briefly
As a moth gives itself to the flame.
The buzz of cicadas
Pitches ever higher
Until it is a deafening roar,
Then stops dead
Only to slowly build again.
Coyotes call
And are answered
In the distance
By a chorus of the night,
Eerie harmonies of the dark.