Night Sounds, Or, An After-Hours Soundscape
The fog is all around our tiny house.
The foghorn's dulcet tones reverberate
From some location off the darkened shore.
We are not forced to wander in the night—
Our feet may rest, they are not refugees,
No one is telling them to move along.
It's good to have a place to call one's own.
Outside the weather is not welcoming,
But inside all is warm and comforting.
The comforts of the hearth extend to those
Who go about on four legs, not on two.
Pierre and Lucky, Sunshine and Janine;
They understand the benefits indoors.
When daylight floods the garden with warm rays,
They will not stay inside confining walls.
At night, they wander back inside to sleep;
Each feline has a place that he prefers.
They get along quite well when comatose!
Such gentle sounds of snoring fill the air,
A perfect complement to Foghorn's calls.
©2016 Michael Fraley
Back to Poem-O-Rama