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Saturday night, crickets chorusing in pleasant harmony by the creek. Saturday night, children playing by steps of their houses. Saturday night, football game on, the town cheering. Saturday night, Smith’s Grocery closing up early. Saturday night, the orchestra is practicing. Saturday night, sun setting quick. Saturday night, moon rising. Saturday night, settling. Saturday night. Silence.


Saturday night goes fast. Children sliding out of trees and into their beds. Ice cream dripping down their chins. Saturday night rests. Saturday night escapes. Fleeting, it wanders the week, waiting for its chance to arrive again. Saturday night. Nothing to be heard. Nothing to be seen. Waiting.

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