remsleep

June 30, 2013

a carpet of fireflies lit up before sunset

the glowing lights undulating over the insect city

I sat shirtless on the front porch

untouched by the last of the biting buffalo gnats

the scourge of Up South

the rubythroated hummingbirds making a last call at the feeder above my head

and then came the harbinger

the first long, mournful wing-song of a single cicada

it seemed to struggle

early birthed creature on the north maple tree

it did three stanzas then called it a night

soon the entire orchestra will arrive

soon we’ll be wondering where summer went

Grandma Duncan used to say

‘Them katydids, I wish they didn’t

‘They sing of winter

‘Why the good Lord make skeeters and katydids I don’t know’

Grandma also disapproved of the moon landing

of moon romance:

‘Moonlight darin’ us to go insane yessir

‘Me a Godfearin’ woman

‘I hope them astronauts find the light switch and turn it off.’

 

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