African Nights

It was one of those Rousseau  nights 
( Henri Rousseau, the painter,
‘The Sleeping Gypsy’ guy)

LANZA (41)mm

still warm,
you could smell and hear and feel  the day’s heat
no wind,
full moon,
and silence

then suddenly calls,
sounds, cries,  noises:
a moon leopard coughing;
nightmare bats screaming  shrill warnings;
a humpback hyena’s crazy cackling;
and nearby
something creaking,
Kroac, Kroac, Kroac,
frog or toad

then suddenly
nothing again,

dark, deep,  creepy silence
and the whole world waiting,
stopped in its tracks,
poised in mid-stride,

listening and watching and waiting
for the banished sun
to rise and resume
and reassure

LANZA (41)



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