I can hear the frogs tonight in their mirth,
Croaking as if there was a better day
Awaiting us in sunrise’s rebirth,
Chirping in electricity’s dull grey.
Each reddit recalls evenings of my prime
And I think of summer nights just like now
When we took each day as a step in time,
Devoid of divisions about the how.
The sky was so black then and yet pinpricked
With bright messages from light years away –
Solitary stars that all seemed handpicked
To guard the milky ways of yesterday.
Under that canopy we could believe;
Tonight there’s only ground on which we grieve.
