The Garden’s Song


I am sorry, but I cannot hear you over the siren of the cicadas.  It’s like a beat getting funky in your head phones, the right side on, then the left.  Not at the same time, usually, both sides, but they respond to each other’s echo, playing a game with their percussion melody.  The loud siren fades out, only to come back stronger again.  The symphony of their song overtakes the neighborhood, leaving a dent of solitude when they lull into silence.


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