Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
In the symphony of summer,
when the heat sets the shimmering tone
rebounding from the hard-faced earth,
and all life seeks the shade,
then sings the cricket with strident creak,
unfettered by the enervating day,
filling the parched and vacant space
to claim the clothes of silence.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 05.27.23
Prompt: The Poetry of Earth Is Never Dead by John Keats.
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