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.’
About Eugene Jones Baldwin
I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: eugenebaldwin.com. I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play.
I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website)
I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
