Breakfast At Night

I awoke to the sound of 'Salem' crickets
The fluttering of gothic moths on the window screen
The loud croaking of amphibians, a raven
A nocturnal song of an owl
Seemingly melodious
A wolf's distant howl
Renders it harmonious
Pierces my heart and soul more than my ears

Like the soft gentle breeze
that blows through the trees
In intervals
It rushes through my window

I get up to look out and see light
A faint blue that paints the night
Listening to the evening symphony
Brings me to an epiphany

That I should enjoy mornings this way
I go to the kitchen to make coffee
I make an omelette from a recipe that
I found in the "morning" paper
I spread butter on the burnt rye toast
And add a layer of marmalade
I say a prayer of thanks for this night
And for the breakfast I made