Cicada Song

There moved, against the verdant glade

On a lovely, summer's day

A shape, to see, too far away

Immersed in high grass, cast with shade

 

And, slowly, forwards walking

I hold a hand before my face

To ward away the insect life

And shield from softer, evening rays

 

And catch a glimpse, If I may

Of what lurks beneath the glade

That stalks me in the afternoon 

And, with nightfall, hides its face

 

Always waiting, there for me

In the forest, by the lake

Watching, silent, from afar 

In a quiet, hidden place

 

Though, I know it cannot stay

And I shall someday return

Finding that It has gone awhile

To disappear without a trace

 

And I shall walk there, even still

Looking amidst the fallen leaves

The only sound cicada song

And the sighing of the trees