Nightsongs
The window screen need not be closed tonight.
Onshore wind pours through porous curtains.
A cotton sheet wraps coolness around skin
Still synthesizing July sun.
I breathe air made for cicada chants
While beneath the window lunar-led water
Pushes stone against stone
Then folds into itself once more.
When sleep comes, the water sound remains.
Crests breaking
Scooping stones in the trough.
Image via Madeline Mullenbach
