Saturday night and we crashed out
after our swim, before your supper
(but not before mine)
and didn’t get up
till I had to get lanterns
to see to prepare your meal

Saturday night after the wind
blew the bank of clouds in,
trees dropping needles,
lifting their limbs,
sending the rush of the wind wave
like stories through their throng,
standing still afterwards,
drifting towards darkness

Saturday night and you thought
you might like
some people to talk to,
some night life to see
but the life of the night here
is coolness and crickets
and what we can find in our dreams.

©Wendy Mulhern
August 7, 2021i