Soft tinkle of glossy ice somewhere
beyond the cedar hedge in the shadows,
chime of crystal stemware and the sound of
cork coming out of a tall glass bottle like a
swooping inhalation of the breath, the inward
sigh hanging like a mantra in the still air.
Quiet laughter on my neighbour's
moon lanterned deck this evening.
They are toasting the summer night
over there in the humid darkness.
Above their heads, a legion of small brown
bats describe wide arcs among the trees.