Night

The Gulf beach at night is black and blue. Crickets play sad repetitive songs for the sleepless. A waxing moon glares through palm fronds of tall trees, its eye ever aware like mine. I hear something playing in the water; an anonymous kerplunk in the indigo night.

The laughter of a father’s daughter echoes into the night, giggles in rhythmic time after her dad’s voice. Their duet reminds me of the years of longing for my own absent father.

Small sounds won’t penetrate the silence: June bugs tapping at the lantern and the wind shaking browned palms like pom-poms.

I’m interrogated by stars.
The solitude I once loved laughs at me here.

The sky cries without thunder or lightning, gently against my tent, and never-ending.
I wrap myself up with what I’ve lost. With my back against the night, I close my eyes over an awakened mind.