Cicada-katydid kind-of-rain

outside chirrs blessings to the carcass

on the windowsill.

Bug body bent

over

           & Mama talking

            of things I’ve never known: of wasps,

katydid killers, burrowing babies to be born

            within cicada bodies—ravaging and rebirth

            & Mama talking about Auntie’s focus on ravaging,

            fearing the ringing: cicada-katydid

            kind-of-rain as distress call, as warning wasp hunt.

Cicada on our kitchen counter

Postmortem underbelly white like crystals

legs curled as if frozen in the act of clutching

            & Mama talking,

            saying the ringing is a reminder

            of loss: first Auntie, then could-have-been children,

            now you  

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