The night is full of sounds of creatures along the quiet street, each one a miracle of life.
I've had a night like this before, the world full of hope again.
I touch everything gently, and slowly,
and the stars are above me, behind my back.
This is summer, a steady throb says somewhere,
as if breathing, gently as well, smiling somehow
even without expression but the proximity to a tree,
the touch of a stem, everything in place.
There is a fountain on the street,
steps to climb up to the filling basin,
the lion's head and the pool.
The simple fact,
that life is harder
much harder
without
love.