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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2326946
A freestyle poem about cicadas
I found a dead cicada in my driveway.
Its head is gone.
All around me are the sounds of living cicadas.
It's warm. For now.

The life of a cicada is long, yet short.
They spend most of their lives underground.
Then a few weeks above it.

So much to do, so little time.
I hope they spend their time wisely.
Life is short for all of us anyway.
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