The velvet cloak of Night descends,
But slower now in solstice times.
Day describes a respectful bow,
Since Dark’s far older than the Light.
Night tucks Day into its bed,
With softness and with loving care.
As if responsive to a cue,
The insect choirs take up their song
The bullfrogs croak their hoarse refrain.
Warm vapors from the day before,
Exude from all the plants and trees.
The Moon, far weaker than the sun,
Salutes the rocks with its pale rays.
Critters mostly sleep when dark,
Yet some set out in search for food.
Predators begin a nocturnal stalk;
Tall grasses dance the rhythmic breeze.
As vital is the Day to most,
I often do prefer the night
Its then I cry out to the skies,
Please, do now turn on the dark!
-p. (attributable to Leonard N. Shapiro, August, 2016)
*( title attributable to W.A. Mozart, 18th Century)
plinyblogdotcom 
Anxiously awaiting code orange.
Be well.
The Editing Team
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