it's quiet

well, not really quiet

the kind of quiet where the people aren't making noise

there are crickets chirping in the tall grass

and toads croaking by the creek

just around the bend

and in the distance there's an owl

who cooks for you, who cooks for you

there aren't any streetlights

and the sky goes on forever

away from the field of drying wheat

and the owl who coos

and the creek with the toads

and the crickets

there are just stars and stars and stars

like a child has spilled glitter

across the universe

and there's the milky way

and a single blinking light from an airplane

drifting into the distance

the air is cool enough

to make goosebumps

but not cool enough to be cold

the stars are shimmering down

and the moon is a thin crescent

like the fingernail of a god

and the wind carries with it

a raspy whisper

of music

underneath the stars and the sky

the atmosphere isn't as suffocating

and the world is a place

of wonder