The Sound of Cicadas
The sound of cicadas
is deafening me.
Flutterings
float drunkenly
through my field of vision
wandering
wearily
from some sorted celebration
that sizzles incessantly
with a song saying clearly–
You are not allowed.
The sound of cicadas
is taunting me, now.
2 thoughts on "The Sound of Cicadas"
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The cicadas are haunting my dreams as well and I’m working on a poem about cicada celebrations too. I loved this poem because it speaks to my daily experience too!
I can definitely agree with that first line. And the last one just for how long that sound lingers!