Mind Moonbeams

Southern night lies hot, humid, still—
silent but for a whippoorwill
that sings from the branch of an oak,
taking me back to my childhood,
growing up surrounded by woods.
Farther afield, I hear a croak;
see mind moonbeams bounce off a stream.
And I dream, oh, I dream…I dream!
Living in memories evoked.

©2022 July Day

Nove Otto

Image by Giovanni from Pixabay