• Three women sit on the porch, swinging
    On a bench, smoking cigarettes.
    The still wind waits to take a breath;
    The night sleeps with dreams of day.
    Crickets sing songs wrapped around
    Their legs; light bugs fly like stars in sky.
    The bench gently rocks back and forth,
    Little toes pushing against the floor.
    Cradling themselves like little newborns
    Sleeping on a string of white pearls,
    Forgetting their troubles, enjoying each
    Other, breathing against the silent world.