Naught
.
being home
and not just noticing
but actually listening
to each and every sound
of a peaceful summer evening
with windows opened wide
the distant passing engine
of a small aero-plane
fading faster than it arrived
the modulated buzzing
of insects and frogs
chirping along in orchestral song
stopping and starting
unexpectedly at times
and beneath it all
the sound of quiet
a distinct absence of noise
pleasant reverberations of nothingness
floating on cool night air
echoes of naught
purring
like a cat
one notably happy cat
.
.
.
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