Beeping fireflies
for the blind
overpower crickets
who stage a strike
with no signs
of their shocked silence
I catch your eyes again
that look for a star
at the dawn of night
in a yawn as light
passes over the lane
we follow back in time
Where are you now
little bud of new roses
that plays through this ocean
this cerulean dream
as we lean in rapture
to groan the night's overture
Hail the southern breezes
as they tickle windows
in their birth
of summer laughter
as stars plummet
through blue curtains
Barry G. Wick
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