the night

There is a distant light in the sky. It comes and goes fighting with the breaking waves for superiority. There is almost inaudible rasp of razor palm leaves rubbing in the air. A single chime sounds. The light is turned off in the room. I am sitting by the window.People laugh and walk, across the road. The cool breeze gently swipes my face. Best of all is the Moon. It is almost full, like a porcelain figure. Perfect white. Everything is bathed into the orangish colour from the street light I suppose. The whole sky is splotchy but clear, although even in the clear around the moon, the light betrays the thin layer of haze. I know of nothing relentless than the sound of silence. Faint whiff of the rain in the air. There was a great thunder in the afternoon.I stare at the moon. It shines even brighter through the patch of truly clear sky.

I just want to sit on the floor and color this beauty. The night looks impeccable.

(My husband took the liberty of taking the beautiful picture of Boston. One was taken after the July 4th fireworks. )