feel the air.
it is so warm and soft, like a hug.
you cannot escape it, and the truth?
you'd rather not,
especially after the long winter.
and believe me, it was long.
in the hug [above]
you are drowsy,
and your bed be a welcome place
and as you fall,
not off of a cliff,
not to your death,
not out of love,
but to sweetly dream
you hear the resounding melody of cicadas
a harmony so vivacious and yearning
so subtle in it's voice
lulling you to sleep
and everything's okay
because it is still two months before
the whole earth dies
[for winter, can be very dead]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.