Cicada Songs
Cicada songs in the air taste like
the troubled peace of nostalgia
and smell like a lavender sunset
over the bronze cadence of a field of
wheat, right in the middle of the summer,
when it rains lemonade on front porches
and knobby knees once again suck vitamin D from the
heat lightning warmth with yawns of content.
One of the most beautiful moments of my life.
On my way to the city
I know I won’t come back, no,
nor grasp over my shoulder into the past
that made its reluctant transition from my heart to my head,
like I was once so tempted to do,
But the cicadas that sing to me
will always usher in my adolescence
and help me to recall everything that
became me, from the sheen of the dancing wheat
to the gashes of memories torn through the sky
by the summer lightning that, some nights,
was the best friend I could ask for.
