night poem, august 11, 2015

.

The chorus of cicadas

Ten thousand strong

Escalates and accelerates

Then slows and fades

Like the day itself

Like summer itself.

.

In weeks this noise

Which now seems almost a part of the Earth

Will vanish and the sky be white with silence

And only the whisper of the wings of the late migrations

To make us cry.

.

The distant train enters the tunnel with whining horn

Its tone dropping from silver major to grey minor as it races inside the mountain

Rickety-rack, rickety-rack, rickety-rack.

Copyright 2015

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2 Responses to night poem, august 11, 2015

  1. I’m listening to cicadas right now andyou definitely captured the spirit of that. Lovely.

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