The Cicadas

when exactly did they start

           their uncanny chirring

that moved from those trees

           to these and quieted

then rose up again in those

           waves of sound underneath which

although it was so strange

           we continued as usual

children tearing around crazy

           with end-of-day energy

adults talking over the news

           having drinks on the porch

the rising falling buzzing

           around us relentless

like insomniac thinking

           monotonous grinding

rapid wings scraping

           insistent erotic

maybe a kind of warning

           bomb fire tornado

or a lecture in a warm room

           where listeners nod off

and wake up with a start

           heads bobbing like marionettes

the strings slackening tightening

           when exactly was it over

who could understand it

           we will be tested

what do we need to know