18.
Up after a Saturday afternoon
nap sitting in the freshly mowed
back yard watching the late
day 5 PM sun glance it off
with all that is green after
yesterday's torrential downpour.
Chainsaw cicadas hidden
away in giant neighborhood
trees screeching steadily
rhythmically with what my grandmother
used to call ‘such a lonesome sound’.
Green sharp thorns of black berry
bushes reach out almost reptile-like
from vines covering a common city
chain link fence behind me.
And of course sounds of
unknown neighbors moving in
to the house/apartment next door with
windows overlooking old garages
and a gravel driveway/parking
lot, scree kritch of tiny stones
under tires, men attempting half
explained logics, their women close
behind whilst digging through their truck
bed tool boxes and again those chainsaw
cicadas keep it up something
fierce as dogs yap and bark
at semi-distance and Chopin
twinkles from the open kitchen door.
(August 30th, 2014)
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