Seventeen Year Locusts

I would rather not be remembering you
on this hillside where shadows trick the mind,
Sitting here on the edge of heaven
perception becomes epiphany
as twilight tints the world
with purple haze.

The last time cicadas sang their evening song
you borrowed the keys,  said you’d be home early.
I sat in this same chair,
“Midnight now, no later…You hear?”

You smiled and blew a kiss, cheeky boy!
How could I resist the joie de vivre?
The call came early. I rushed to your side,
but a lifetime passed before I got there.

All things considered
no matter how brief that flash called life
the scars of birth and death are worth it.
I think of the cicada, seventeen years of darkness
for two months of light. Listen to the joy
of their song.
.

 

 

 

Full Moon in a Summer Sky

The sun and its planets
are not mine to give.
The oak

that stands
though storm would claim it
cannot be owned.

Worldly riches have escaped me;
all I can share is this song,
my dreams

 and joy born
of the Strawberry Moon
enthroned in a summer sky.

 

June: The Strawberry Moon (this year’s is June 20th)
Strawberry-picking season reaches its peak during this time.
Europeans call it the Rose Moon because of its color.