Love Poem: Late Summer Cicadas
Jason Knight Avatar
Written by: Jason Knight

Late Summer Cicadas

The cicada in autumn claws its love
Sounds against the glass door – I know
Love this way.  

These thoughts, upturned tables tossing
Contents, ours, mimic the grind of 
Violence sweet sugar, soot, love.

I don’t whose raspy voice 
Whose jagged-edged lips
Who raggedy broken tipped 
Claws life-splintered these 
Remembrances are,

	But I’ve heard the same raging rise 
	Scraping fade on battlefield’s: ghostly New Lisbon, 
Morgan’s Raid.

Many hopeful days crank I would
Pedals backward giving gravel 
The same great growl.

Now the greatness in the rough voice is between
The notes, the gap, the place where he waits
For an answer, so full of hope
 	We both could burst.