cicada cycle
liberated at last from prolonged
subterranean torpor our
springtime cicada
orchestra at once
commences its seasonally
incessant unison stridulation
inexplicably
the inescapable
hissing stasis excites
inspiring fervent copulation
copious reproduction and the
almost inexpressible
satisfaction
of timely
death
|
two stars
my broad giggly smile of assent
when you pointed at a pair of
remarkably bright objects
in the same section of
the spring night sky
and said you and i
are as close
together as
those two
stars
|
starlight
like starlight
unbidden
out of time
once again
you have come
our senses
to quicken
|
not mine
whether by chance or will
i awaken to discover that
our breathing is in synchrony
as if to speak i draw in air
and am instantly aware that
the rhythm is broken
my mouth now poised
to shape the invisible ambient dust
between us into noisy waves
a thought makes me pause
i want the voice to be yours
not mine
|
green anonymity
to be as indistinguishable
as a blade of grass
in a garden lawn
able to endure being trodden on
by admirers of more glorious fauna
ever striving to attain perfection
through green anonymity
|
still dancing
i am fully
at rest i am
as still as any
creature of my kind
can ever be still every one
of the many millions
of particles that
comprise me
is dancing
|