Your mother is calling you.
It is time to go to bed.
The night is calling out its cry of dark.
“Come, come,” she calls to you.
Again you do not answer.
The clock strikes nine.
The cat is rubbing at your ankles.
You are silent.
Your mother calls you again and again,
But you still do not go.
The peepers are singing,
And the birds are calling the sound of night.
The moon is already out and shining on the houses.
You run into the yard.
Owls start to hoot.
A frog jumps out of the stream
Breaking the stillness of the night.
The dog barks in his kennel.
The night is answering.
You still do not go inside.
Your mother calls one last time,
And you finally go in to bed.
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