Out in the backyard,
looking at the blue-purple sky,
that fills the sky.

It's getting dark out,
and the bugs are in full swing,
listening to the radio,
on my patio chairs.

Nothing but green ahead,
as it sinks into darkness,
not as fear,
but as a look into a brighter tommorow—
when mankind will be better.

Birds are chriping,
as my neighboor mows their lawn,
in their own society,
thinking their own little thoughts—
in a private little world.