Poetry

Today’s verse …

WHEN CICADAS SING

When the tyrant slowly relents,

calls off his silent-snarling hounds

of heat and slides his arrows

into sunset’s quiver;

when his subduing powers wane

and the summer world’s oppression is relieved

 

the cicadas sing. Their crescendos

rattle out a siren, buzzing freedom

through a plum and honey sky.

And here and there a cool breeze eases

down clean and light, free and brief.

 

Published in “The Weekly Avocet”, July 2015

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