Cicada and Circe

Ides of May are the Cicada’s realm.
Countless. Myriad. Infinity.
Beating Wings. abdominal Wings,
Drumming. Calling. Screaming.
Interesting.
Distracting.
Abominable.
Claustrophobic.
Unquiet woods, Any tree
Emanate a plebeian pitch
A frenzy of febrile Mating Calls.
Evening skies of later May darken with
Cavalcades of Capricious Clouds
Rain torrents, torments….
Circean blows, empty shells and a liberating silence.
Metamorphosed and Dead
After a seventeen-year wait.
Fulfilled?
Unfulfilled?!

2003