The Cricket Indoors

After much investigation
Of the window screen ajar
With a leap he is soon inside

His heartbeat
Racing, counting
The sound of wings

Like a concerto
Every verse, chorus
Bridge about a woman

And the heat of the night
The sheets where he reads
With antennae cricket music

Atop foreign land
So new his song pauses
He pounces! Glides!

The cricket indoors

Afoot rich textures
Turn calligraphy
For the mind

Carpet a kingmaker
His tales absorb
Back outside

He says,
“Freshly vacuumed.”

“I am the forest,”
He declares,

And forever

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s