Week 33; A Poem a Day

8/18/16

Crickets occupy
Every corner
Of my living

The camouflaged ones
In my garden
Who only reveal themselves
As they flee the water
I splash on my tomatoes

The glossy black ones
Sleek as sports cars
Waiting in the grass
Of the front yard
Hoping for
A predator to outrun

But most crickets
I only hear
Under or after
The cicadas and katydids
Their song changing
With the weather
Consistently
Slower in the cool
Quickened in the heat
But always
Steady
In time

There was a dog
I called Cricket
Once
After I saw him
Catching and eating
The little morsels
Skinny and brown and long-legged
He also reminded me
Of a cricket
A little

And of course
There’s the long-legged cave dwellers
Living in my basement
Silently
They make no demands
No protests
No mating calls
That I can hear
Though I’m pretty convinced
They aren’t happy
When I grab them
In mid-air
To feed them
To my chickens

8/18/16 #2

Someone
Is practicing jazz
On a trumpet
Through one of those
Golden windows
Of that house
On a terrace
When I walk by
Practicing poetry
On a book and pencil
Over concrete squares
In sodium vapor light
That turns everything
The same shade of yellow

The only thing
Separating master
From novice
Is practice

081_X-T1_Jul2016_JRuzich

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