Night Sounds

Invading the stillness
they come
shrilly blunted yips and yaps
air hounds, flapping in packs above my home here in the heartland
hunting
not for rabbits but rare bits
cat tails whose fur has yet to burst forth and fly like tiny white fairies
bullfrogs, ancient croaking light houses, calling them in
landing, ten, twenty at a time, beginning the Beguine
slow rolling of hips dancing on waves rocked by prairie winds
songs accompanied by love calls for those who straggle behind
until, at last, every one has landed
and a sacred silence ushers in the sun
just before the great cacophony breaks the fast
surging out of the water, waddling across dew streaked grass
snapping up bits and bites, honking jokes back and forth
hard to reconcile with those noble creatures in the night sky.