Cicada

My daughter screamed
when she found it
on the bricks in the backyard,

it was just a dull brown husk
of a thing twitching
spindly legs kicking
as if it still climbed

only instinct
controlling
movement (much like me)

we lifted it on an oak leaf
and carried it gently
to the bark of the tree.

“Is it dying?” my daughter asked.
“No love, it’s changing, growing.”
“Into what?”
she wrinkled her brow in curiosity.

“An adult. Another version of itself.”

We watched as a split formed-
a fracture, a chasm, an opening,
(be it window or door)

such vivid green and white
worked and writhed up and out
of that dull shell.

It convulsed, and pulled free
from what it was-
To become what it is
(what it inevitably had to be)

it bent so suddenly back
newly blooming wings
unfurling silkily

its legs in a skyward reach
as it fell, and climbed again.

Her blue eyes
were transfixed
Her mouth agape,

and as it took flight-
We all were changed.
 

Todays poetry contest submission was written by Joseph Fields.

 

Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2013?