No sooner

had they fallen,

that trembling sphere

of cicadas held immobile

& enmeshed in spider’s

webs;

Fallen & scattered

in arcane pattern strewn

over squares of white linen

spread over tar-papered

roof;

An arcane pattern

of gleeful arthropods

rewriting their future

as unbound individuals &

collective;

No sooner

had they fallen

into newfound freedom,

than they began,

in a grinning profusion

of pale pink petals,

to  b l o o m.

— C.Birde, 7/21