Cicada Dream

It’s a tunneling dream, this 

Earth worming intersection, 

Of fern sprout-root shelter. 

For how many dark years more? 

Thirteen? Seventeen? Only two? 

And which brood carpets 

The underground, sipping away

Through the whispered script 

Of tree tremors, the sleepy signs, 

Gulping signals at nectar

Hovering above, lending 

Blind preparation, 

For skin shedding revelation, 

Reading vibratory steps 

For the prophesied 

Deafening 

                 Songs of Rise, Rise 

While soon in dodge of winged hunger 

And strikes of flutter and squawk. 

-Larry Thacker