It stopped raining
right before dark.

When the skies
cleared and the sun

sank behind the hills,
frogs started hollering

all around the house
and lightning bugs lit

up, painting patterns
across the night.

I stood on my porch
breathing in the soaked

air, bathing in countless
echoes casting out calls

of love or woe and
drinking in the sight

of dazzling small beacons
longing for the thing

we all want.