Ribbit

On a night
   like tonight
      I would be
            lying back on the roof
                 in the cool breeze
            staring at the stars
                      or
            hiking up the hill alone
                 in the mostly dark
            hearing the frogs ribbit by the water and
                       the owls hoot in the rustling trees,
            listening closely
                 for other calming night sounds,
            doing everything I could
               not to think about snakes –
                     which I can’t not
                        think about
                             now.

I wouldn’t be
   sitting inside
      behind closed windows
   hiding
      from the dense
                  suffocating heat,
   trying to
             think
                  beyond the thick haze.

I would already be
   thinking lucidly
               crisply
               smoothly
      without having
               to try.