Cicadas cicadas cicadas
heard since July, the Sunday night of summer
when sunrise rays lower themselves,
heating the concrete, ducking below a deck umbrella,
driving me inside to the white noise of conditioned air
that tells a lie of comfort and coolness…
that gives way to middle August and the
dropping
of
crinkled and matte
oak and
maple leaves, and
withered petunias, and brittle geraniums who
refuse to relinquish the dry soil and the pseudo-sun of
southern Africa beneath which they naturally thrive.
–Marilyn Yung
Photo: Michael Beener on Unsplash
Marilyn Yung 