July 27

Mowing my lawn
earlier today
a dying cicada
in a patch of hay

Flapping its wings
bucking and swayed
its last flight for life
in a patch of hay

Knowing the night
creeping at bay
would draw to the sound
in this patch of hay

Looking tomorrow
expecting no way
for a dying cicada
to still struggle today

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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