When cicadas sing, I sing along
One word: Summer, Summer. Summerrrrrr.
At the edge of the garden
is where I heard them first.
Me, pulling weeds;
Them, one-word sing.
If they have a word,
so can I.
Writer. Writer. Writerrrr.
When Cicadas Sing
Write One Real Life
Where writing meets faith in the real world.
Love it, and love the sweet picture!
Cicadas are one of my favorite sounds. Thanks for reading, Diana!