The Nightly Ensemble

In twilight's arrival, when shadows swallow the land,
A band of crickets tune their instruments.
Tiny appendages swing in common practice,
Swift and loud, they let out music.

Among the stillness of night,
The night owls and the early birds,
Their melody strides in tune of,
The upcoming and graceful moon.

A grand chorus born from flirtations,
And rival disputes. Lasting until the,
Stars die down and the morning sun,
Brings the clashing chorus of chirps.

In hidden corners, where shadows reign,
The await to come out and play again.