Cricket Song

The wind is fierce tonight

And the crickets sing.


Out of season

The crickets sing.


In the warm days and cool nights

Of an easy, early Spring,

The night lives with cricket song.


Winter is not done,




The wind is a harbinger,

A vanguard,

Of fierce and frigid frozen Winter,

Which will ride for a night or two or three or more.


Winter isn’t done.




Still the crickets sing.


Winter winds will slow them,

Maybe kill them.


Still they sing.


Cricket song is the herald of Spring.


Maybe their songs kill Winter.


I don’t know.

Sounds fanciful.




I hope my life,

When it ends,

Ends with me singing Winter to death.


4 thoughts on “Cricket Song

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