The cicada revealed itself to me.
Gray to the touch,
Streamlining itself into oval curves,
To cooperate with the summer storms.
I listened to the tangy air.
Watched as they organized their flight
And as they disappeared
With their flowery baggage
All while lightning struck the air.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
The cicada revealed itself to me.
Gray to the touch,
Streamlining itself into oval curves,
To cooperate with the summer storms.
I listened to the tangy air.
Watched as they organized their flight
And as they disappeared
With their flowery baggage
All while lightning struck the air.
I think I was reading a book that talked about cicadas and I had an urge to look them up. Somehow that lead to this poem on a topic that I would never have chosen to do myself.
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