Once in awhile I’ll meet and interact with some small creature, and this will inspire a poem or three. I’ve attempted to interact with cicadas in the past, but they’re always so skittish, making it difficult even to get near one, never mind give one a ride. Maybe this one was a bit shocked by its downtown surroundings, making it more willing to try its luck with climbing on board. Which I think worked out well for it, since I was able to leave it someplace far more green.
cicada dreams
i
stained glass wings rest
light against the dull gray
tinge of stainless steel
compound eyes study a world
more strange and alien
than their wide and varied view
giant beetles rush colors past
sometimes disgorging unwieldy
young from beneath heavy wings
great square hives rise up
full of eyes that glint back bits
of amber pearl and turquoise
creatures half concealed by
remains of cocoon rush about
scratching out bits of song
small metal trees grow barely
a few flat leaves which never
bend to the touch of wind
there is no need for thought
for there is nothing to understand
here of this dim new dreaming
ii
curious eyes reach out and
touch ever so slightly front-
most legs with invitation
one rises up to ponder-feel
the alien appendage almost
lost in reflections of meaning
then all at once tear-drop
wings climb up light tan skin
and over thin brown hairs
one walks the other rides
before the floating scrutiny of
a large peculiar gaze
overhead floats a sidewalk
canopy of maples deep green
firs and old black oaks
sign posts and street lamps fade
behind a backyard gate that leads
into a garden where the sound
of city streets is hardly heard
among the many hues of spring
that climb and blossom toward the sun
and here against a beechwood branch
living wings are gently placed
returned to sapwood realms of dream
