1) Clear sky and no moon,
nothing to point to or reflect.
This old house is drafty.
At night, lone crickets chirp;
asking for direction. 3) Soft breath lingers.
A subtle, rhythmic chant drips
from the kitchen faucet. 4) Every leaky faucet speaks.
Every cricket chirps Dharma.
Every thing we do matters.
“Cricket and Grapes” by Jan Zeremba