Shivering lights
of the hills lit the midnight sky.
Contrasting with the dark sky,
and the pale clouds,
as they passed by.
A silent breeze ruffled
the treetops, and shooed the
clouds away.
Above the rattling of the
leaves, came chirping.
Chirp, Chirp. Chirp, Chirp.
On the dusty ground, so bare,
came a single movement, fast as a hare.
Chip, Chirp. Chirp, Chirp.
The cricket silenced, listening.
Upon the noise of distant skittering.
Once more, the cricket began singing.
Chirp, Chirp. Chirp, Chirp.
The skittering grew closer.
Had his singing finally paid off?
Had another cricket come, to match his song,
so soft?
Chirp, Chirp. Chirp, Chirp.

