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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2247508
Summer in East Texas
The cicadas moan their dreary dirges
while the sun sinks beneath the lush pines
and our faces drip the sweat that burrows
tracks through our muddy faces,
evidence of the frolics of youth.

I bite into the watermelon, sticky and sweet,
and await the coming darkness.
© Copyright 2021 M.L. Wicker (mwicker at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2247508-The-Cicadas