Bump in the Night

Ceiling fans whir

stirring the humid air

and the quiet stillness

Crickets chirp

June bugs tap, tap, tap the window

wings aflutter, dives inside an open door.

Dies by the light of the moon.

None too soon,

slumber beckons,

 a dark cloak cradles you softly,

feather-light,

against the groans, creaks, and shadows.

melodious midnight masquerade.

 

NaPoWriMo Day 17 – write a nocturne.

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