In the safety of hours dark, crickets
Played their violins; their chords merged
With croaking sounds of frogs brought in
From grassy leas creating a discordant
Symphony of tangled notes. An aria, in
The middle of the dissonant symphony,
Seeped into my weary somnambulant
Mind producing tonal traces of long lost Memories.

An ominous night owl’s voice screeched
Through the baffled thunder, of the night
And pierced my aging mind. I
Speculated about the sadness of
Eternity as I listened to the loneliness of
A wailing wolf slinking through the night
On jaunty haunches searching for the
World’s lost symbols,

Ramblings inside my weary mind
Became silent as I heard the sound of a
Ghost train traveling on rusted-iron
Tracks far in the distance of time and
Space. Its whistle echoed the fears of
Those, like me, who live in the fading
Hours of time.

An ancient grandfather clock pealed
Away the shifting hours of wearisome
Hours, as the old train disappeared into
Ashes. I then heard the strident bird
Songs of a mocking bird, and the
Raucous voice of a mourning dove, as
Rusting time danced to the sad
Throbbing of an ancient harp, and I
Worried about the sputtering rhythm I
Hear in my heart.