Nightly Ritual

It was loud out on the porch tonight.  The world was breathing, and itching, and moving.  Whimpering, then screaming, only to whimper again.  I lost myself chasing one noise and then the next, trying to follow one singer in the chorus.  It was hard, I kept losing them to the tumult.  I centered myself on inward breaths.  Holding one drag in and following the sound of letting it out, nice and slow, as it flowed out into the yard.  Past the cricket cries, under the whistling fig tree fruits, and across the fence into the neighbors yard.  The dog next door hates the smell.  

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