PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

~When Pyrocumulus Last in these Western Lands Bloom~

This late summer evening as I listen

to the cricket's 

"cree cree

cree cree

cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs

and what a glorious noise

I could make if I rubbed them together

as I lie on my back in shadows.

Maybe after a while

a beautiful woman

who also has cricket legs

will be attracted

and join me in the bushes.

Together,

the volume of the

glorious noise

will double,

and we will be happy

and she'll smile

easily.

Our racket might very well disturb

the people for several miles around,

and cause them

to gather up guns and dogs

to hunt us down

and silence us, but as they near,

we will

SPRING INTO ACTION!

We'll get up on our cricket legs,

and bound away into perhaps

a large field of tall, green, corn

where we will lie, keeping

our legs spread apart

for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way,

we quietly giggle

as I climb on top of you

and proceed to play,

while the people

urge their dogs

to sniff us out, but the dogs

don't really want to find us

because they consider us to be

too weird and creepy to behold, while

to the north

and south of us,

in these western lands,

pieces of the sun unwind 

from the forests,

and the pyrocumulus bloom.