SUMMER 2017
cicadas chorus in waves, soft,
then loud then louder still
cho-weet, cho-weet, CHO-WEET
then soft, then softer still then
quiet until the next round
the neighbors' elegant detritus
fills the parkway since the deluge
the YOOGE inundation, their new digs
drowned by rain penetration in the
summer of Trump, sideshow
for the yahoos and greed mongers
oh, yes, we deserve his worst
as the soft yellow-green
fireflies, the females, settle
in the grass awaiting copulation
after which they devour the mate
or so i read, incorrectly i hope,
nature red in tooth and claw
as alfred the lord tennyson had it
when his young friend died young
death is in the air one way
and another - my wife's demented
mother delusionally says her dead
husband is alive but missing
then she reverses herself and says
it's all made up, she was just fooling
and apologizes deeply until 2 minutes
later when she says it all again, then
again, then again, almost cicada-like:
oh, yeah, my beloved clancy is dead
copyright © 2017 by patrick o'hayer
