Last night…

The cicadas are speaking now

rhythmic   secret   concentric   circular

conversing.   I interrupt their song

with my listening.   Suddenly

they stop.    And I wonder

how I never noticed their quiet

before.  I did not hear

how loud their silence.

 

The next day …

becomes night, and hours pass

in my inattention, till I am still

and hear past the window

a sole cicada

whose call rings the night

like an empty womb.