alone at night
the body refusing sleep
my creaking feet, my naked passage
to this stumbling equilibrium,
this gravitational silence.
a quiet, systemic protest
against a too pleasant tomorrow.
awakened from rooted depths,
to this glowing mirror,
the lined-up, strung-out
cicada still whirring,
to hear an answer.
We discovered a cicada breaking out of his larval shell early one morning last week. I decided to record the process at roughly forty minute intervals.
It looks at first like some kind of mutant – a failure with stunted wings and albino coloring.
An hour later, the wings have unfurled themselves, and are drying, stiffening.
The wings fold back against the body. The body begins to darken.
And darken. Several hours later it was gone, leaving behind the familiar husk.
Snapped on our front deck this morning, I caught this little guy chillin’ by the front door. He’s the very first of the celebrated Brood II that we’ve seen. Soon enough, however, he’ll be joined by thousands of fellow emergents in … Continue reading