Orion long gone, the dipper has wheeled around to where it is clipped by the pine, and the east grows ever so slightly deep blue. At last the heat has subsided enough to silence the frogs, and the sleep-enamored town holds silence to itself like a blanket. It is possible once again to shiver, just a bit. Unstirred, the air hangs from the darkness, waiting to be folded back by the advancing light. A sprinkler clicks on and sends mist to drift beyond the reach of its chattering stream. Alive now with sound, the air trembles, all anticipation, and sighs to touch the new leaves.
by Jacques Prevert
Demons and marvels Winds and tides Far away the sea has already receded and you Like a strand of seaweed gently caressed by the wind In the sands of the bed you shift while you dream Demons and marvels Winds and tides Far away the sea has already receded But your eyes are half open Two little waves are still there Demons and marvels Winds and tides Two little waves to drown me.