Locust
The locust have awakened
Their deep slumber broken by the sultry heat of summer
They sing
The trees curtained with the sound of times passing
I heard them once before
When I was younger
My little face looking towards the trees
Knowing that when I heard them again I’d be older
My dirty hands and scraped knees are now clean and healed
Their screams reminding me that nothing but their awakening remains the same
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Love that ending. The only thing that remains constant is change. 🙂