Tuscan Garden: Nights

Stars still burn bright in the sky;

Fireflies flicker in the bush;

Invisible night-bird croaks.

We listen, watch; try to push

 

Into our nightfall – eclipse

Of that precarious spark.  

They’ll catch our breath as we slip

Into the taciturn dark.

 

Fireflies we wink off and on,

Plucking at those who pass by.

Night-bird croaks on from the tree;

Stars still burn bright in the sky.