Cicadas in My Garden

What calendar is there beneath the soil

Its days crossed darkly off year after year?

What dreams of sun?

What longing for the other to complete it

Until by some mystery it wakes and struggles upward

Emerging at last, shedding the stiff brown nightshirt

Big eyed and bumbling, dazzled by light and air

New to wings and the freedom of flight

Its stuttering song a proof of life

after so long a silence.   -Sally Zakariya 

 

 

*Clicking on a photo will give an enlarged view.