Unfounded

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For the first time since the first time, I was presumptive
Those crickets!
Their song for me
Our mutual love of warm summer nights … and the reedy mid-day marsh….

For the second time since the first time, I learned
They were just crickets … being crickets
They chirp, they do not sing
They survive, they do not love

Unprocessed

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I’ve come to decide

From necessity

The crickets’ cry of silence means

I’ve left my beloveds speechless

In the very best way possible

Stunned, like they’d just seen a light

Its source before now unknown

And decisions of whether to fear

Or to collaborate

Are yet unprocessed

Country Crickets

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 Tiny, shiny red dress in the dark of my closet
Hanging next to that wishin’ shirt
Barefoot together, I’ll wear them, I will
Sitting on my porch swing, eyes closed, crickets applauding 
A summer night so warm, I’ll not care I’m alone