Cicadas

Every fourteen years they warp
to our town

The rapture of the Cicadas
-Sleep no more

And the city becomes some
fifties horror flick

A coup de’etat of alien invaders

Where no man
or beast
can elude their daysong

Driving by the bushes
at noon they beckon

And somewhere in the shrill
hypnotic
blur of noise

I discovered my past

And my future too.

by Jeremy D. Grimes

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