3 am, dishes washed
clothes in dryer
butter in coffee
come sit and watch night
from my porch
smell the wet of moldy leaves
damp soil and warm coffee
the frost of autumn
comes late in the South
and that’s okay
light rain drips – sparkles in trees
asphalt can’t suppress crushed stone’s glisten
only a few crickets praise the night
no cicadas, tree frogs or night birds sing
no dogs bark or owls hoot
no one walks by with a lover or pet
no raccoons or stray cats snooping
a fox or coyote haven’t been by in weeks
the deer must not be hungry
and squirrels keep bankers’ hours
out of the park
waddles a possum
he jaywalks into my yard
grins for a non-existent security camera
the Mayor of Moonlight never sleeps
10-30-19
My husband's poetry 
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