Nocturnal Friends

Nocturnal Friends short poem

Photo by xyza bacani

Can you hear the rustling in the trees?
Can you feel the warm breeze on your face?
I hear the singing of my friends,
I feel their delightful presence.

They are out there on the fields,
dancing in circles with steeds.
Starting fires with their steps,
laying in nightingales’ nests.

But when the dawn is in the air,
you can not see them, nowhere.
You only hear them in the bells,
a faded laughter by the wells.

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