my children write cursive
on stone
with stick pens
and creek water ink
I write something
less permanent
than this
the scribed love song
of a cicada
17 years underground
tasting tree roots
and silently digging
climbs from mud
and out of this faded skin
to fly one day
or two
before starvation
weakens wings
and gravity claims
that weight
again part of the soil
Susan Daniels Poetry 
In it’s own way, then, it is eternal.
Yes
And the cicadas find their place in poetry.
🙂
katy dids. that’s what we call them. love their song of summer, hate finding their skeletons all over the place. ugly they are, but to be admired for wanting to fly in order to die. much like the dragons i love so much. beautiful susan.
Thanks, Rhonda. I used to take the empty, shed exoskeletons and put them on my sister’s pillow–as she hated all “bugs,” it was a guaranteed laugh.
OMG..that is so mean! LOL. I would have freaked. They are so ugly!! Did she ever laugh? Doubt it.
Honestly, I was too busy laughing to notice. I was a BEAST. Little sisters are evil.
I know nothing of little sisters…but yes…evil! bugs? really? baaaaad susan
Yes. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.
oh, and yes–my manners are awful–thanks for liking this!.
hehe…you don’t have to thank me…ever
A redwood of of a poem!! Glorious !
🙂 thanks!
Another great one – Susan!
Thanks, Noel 🙂
I was just explaining to some Canadian friends what the 17 year locusts are like, what an incredible experience it is watching them emerge and literally “popping” out of the ground. This is a special pleaure known only to some of us.
I like the way you include them here with the references to your children and their writing, the creek water, and your own creation. You know me, I love that kind of blending, that connecting with the elements and the elementals. And I really like your title.
Jeremy, thank you! I have always enjoyed these loud and lovely singers of late summer. The title came to me so easily, along with the first image in this poem–watching my two maniacs dip long, thin twigs in the water and writing their names on the stone banks. One of those gifts from the universe 🙂
A gift indeed. All of this.
Yes, it is.
Cicadas are real wonders of nature. Thanks for reminding.
Thank you for commenting! I love these loud singers. Their song might not be pretty, but it will NOT be ignored 🙂