Moonlit Orchestra

cotton clouds fly 
myriad shapes who
float along evening sky
transforming against
purple night.
(Rabbits turn to
Dragons turn to
Wisps of smoke.)
To my delight
silhouettes of trees
Applaud with rustling
As the stage is set
for my amusement

I take my bow.

I bow in reverence
Not as maestro
But as awestruck fan
Of Gaea's moonlit opera. 

…The cricket cacophony
Plays sweetly
out of tune.