Eyes glitter in a flash of headlights, along the highway a burly ‘coon above a drain turns, rises, faces me, saying with its body language, “keep on movin’ if ya know what’s best for ya, lady”…night is his.

Hearing cats crying in the night kitchen, overhead in the chemistry labs…painting the night sky...the  same objects seen every evening walking through the cemetery with my mother, every night, “Look, that’s Jupiter.”

It sees a cute lil’ girl yellow bug down a side street…has a crush on her…plastic green watering can in the middle of the night bridge over mahoning river water is spilling sadness…http://toadhalltimes.blogspot.com/2006_06_14_toadhalltimes_archive.html