Crickets purring in the grass
reflecting the stillness of the stars
their soothing sound helps pass
the night away
The wind blowing in the trees
stealing the residue of the day's labor
leaving only the soft whisper of a breeze
on his face
Warm embers burning out in the stove
ushering the assurance of ash in the morning
if only they knew the miles she drove
to come home
A.C.
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