The sky might be blue
We might be sweltering
Even birds can't be bothered
To sing in that heat
Silence is oppressive
Something is missing
The song of summer
That accompanies
Day and night long
Accute, strident without respite
Where are the drummer boy,
Green Grocer, Yellow Monday,
Blue Moon, Masked Devil,
Whiskey Drinker, Golden Emperor,
Brown Bunyip, Typewriter
Black Prince and its cohorts?
By their names you know
They come in every shade
The stillness is ominous
Their absence portentous
Is one cicada enough
To be the harbinger of summer?
Lucette C. Bailliet
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