Moist air black and cobalt blue.
Clear cream moonlight on the ancestor’s hollyhocks.
Scent of mixed clover and honeysuckle
and grass just cut today.
Chickens
protesting but sleepy
hop up on the roost.
Popping
sing-song
sound of frogs
coming from the creek
swelled and smelling of rain.
Hoot-hoo of an owl
too close to the chickens.
They call to find each other.
Would that it were as easy
for us to find a mate for life.
It would have to be evening
when it is easier to be ready.

-M J Eaton