Happy Happy Cicadas

~A poem about childhood~

Happy happy cicadas, cicada-ing so free

I think I spot one, up in the pine tree

They’re messengers of summer, with many stories to tell

They leave gifts for small children, in the form of their shells

Their familiar sounds, bring so much delight

Except on those

starless,

sleepless,

nights.

I lay in my bed, my thoughts so deep

Wishing all cicadas fell silent in a heap