Tonight I watch scattered stars looking down on me. The frogs seem so loud tonight. The breeze hits my face just right I miss our summer nights, staring at an airplane passing. Thoughts have a way their own and this sure doesn't feel like home. That clock reads 11:20. I guess I am on my own; tonight I sit alone, waiting for the early morning. I hear tomorrow might be seventy, think I will go to the river maybe watch my skin aging. The dew on the grass has soaked through my shirt. And in the distance I hear some crickets. Planes among clouds propel without sound, still I hear their engines steaming. Tonight's a time, when I won't need to lie. I'm thinking I'm dreaming.