Chirping crickets crouch
in the dew brushed grass,
gracefully transposing their solo.

Painting the image
of a violet night,
two dogs sing a duet
with howling basses,
complementing the hoot of an owl,
echoing the question ‘who?’
on the soft breeze.

Cicadas crescendo an accompaniment
as a raccoon takes the coda
on trash cans.

The rarely passing cars hum
a melody
and dimly spotlight sections
of the stage.

Led by the moon,
stars flitter and twirl
in an intricate ballet.

I compose an improvised harmony
between my heartbeats
and unsteady breathes.

There is no plan
for tonight’s performance,

no sheet music to memorize,

no director to keep tempo;
just the song we play.