Night Air

Carries me away into dreams of more peaceful times.

I crack 
the window
just a smidge,
just enough
to let the night air in.

Not enough 
to let any rain
seep through,
just enough 
to hear it
trickling over
the eaves
and dripping down
through the trees,
splattering on 
big hosta leaves
and the flat gray stones
in the garden.

Open enough
to hear the eletric buzz
of crickets and cicadas,
of cars slowly sloshing
along the wet streets
of the neighborhood.

The sounds meld
into a soft summer white noise
that lolls me to sleep
and carries me away
into dreams 
of more peaceful times
of innocent summers
long ago.