Poems From The Porch

The Wood Brothers and the cicadas are singing together this evening.

Sometimes the cicadas swell and are louder.

The temperature is pleasant, although the breeze that brought in the day and sustained its coolness has departed.

There’s a pink, puffy cloud just behind the trees, opposite the place where the sun is preparing for bedtime.

It smells so fresh and autumny out here.

It almost feels sacrilegious to have the Wood Brothers playing while the cicadas are offering their song.

I’m not trying to cover up their refrain. I’m just enjoying them both. That’s possible, you know; to enjoy them both at the same time and together.

The pain of life doesn’t diminish its beauty.

Pain and beauty, well sometimes they sing together, and their tunes carry a message.

The Wood Brothers and the cicadas both have a message, too.

I don’t speak cicada so I don’t understand theirs, but I appreciate the melody.

But the Wood Brothers, well, I understand them. Here’s what they’re crooning:

“Just when your faith is gone, give it one more day,”

and

“If I die young, at least I got some chocolate on my tongue.”

The Wood Brothers must know something about pain and beauty.

I’m guessing that the cicadas do, too.

At least they give that impression with their lulls and crescendos.