Carl "Papa" Palmer

Flickering shadows play from an ebbing
amber candle on the farm house porch
just off Old Mill Road, too hot to sleep.

Solstice stillness in rural dark deepens
following a distant dim lightning flash
rumbling thunder this midsummer night.

Invisible insect songs vibrate, orchestras
offer background sound, nocturnal noise
serenades silence and soaks into my soul.

Crickets join cicada squall as trills of tiny
tree frogs call, an owl’s question answered
by the whip-o-will vainly whistling his name.