#16

Invisible in country dark, the birds
had pegged the notes of songs among the leaves,
like flower garlands hung on high to dry. 
In crescendo, sprouting buds full bloomed
then died as petal echoes touched my ears,
enchanting them with musical perfume.
The darkling mystery of night revealed
its secrets, as shifting moon and stars revolved,
and lit arpeggios with silver mists.

For Day #16 at Writer's Island  and linked to Poetry Pantry #45