Amy Michelle Mosier

Sweet crickets, the tune
You’re playing tempts me to sleep.
By your tune, I will drift off
Better to a place dark and deep.
The low moon and toads
As well as I are your audience.
Why, even the saguaro blooms
Have opened with interest!
The night will soon bend over
And kiss my eyelids closed.
From Earth’s port into the sky
Of oblivion, I will go.
But should I judge your tune
To be my favorite solace
Promise me you’ll return
One night to play for me again.

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