When The Cicadas Awoke

I was no longer the child
you knew that pollen-thick
summer when the cicadas
awoke from their long, long
sleep undersground.

The torpid heat only forbid time
when we were left uprooted.
The fireflies blinked their
last in the jar.
The long hallway was silent
as I remained awake all night.
Always.

The cicadas returned and their trilling
wanted to send me away years later.
I closed my eyes but the sound...

I am grown now and
I know so much loss
besides what cicadas can foretell.
Still I fear their coming.