Cicadas
You know its August
When you hear the Cicadas sing
Making that unique creepy sci-fi sound
As they flutter their wings.
Vibrating the air and buzzing in the trees.
In rural areas you see the holes
They emerge from underground;
Leaving moth-like carcasses
Frozen in time from which they escaped.
Their scary symphony is a reminder
A mid-summer night’s scream;
Cicadas remotely and sonic are
Pretty benign until you,
Notice one taking a ride
Upon your shoulder with
Them big, bugged-out eyes!
Oh my Gosh, they will shock you.
Cicadas, dog days of summer insect,
Orchestrating background noise;
Summer clicking and ticking;
Annoying Bugsy raiders.
In September the Crickets out-sing Cicadas.