The Moon on the Prairie
It is hot
but I open the window
and turn off the air.
The crickets and frogs
are ever-present
as I tune out the city traffic.
and hear the leaves
whisper on the trees
as
they whoosh and sigh.
A far-off train
vibrates
the air with its lonely,
off tune whistle.
The evening breeze
is alive and cool;
refreshing to my
air-conditioned soul.
I close my eyes and
I know
the moon shines
on the prairie.
Marsha Salerno
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