I heard my first cricket of this summer yesterday morning as we drove past this fence-row of wildflowers when we were leaving the cottage...
The crickets have begun earth’s summer-song
Their serenade stipples night’s dewy deep
And wafts up to the space where stars are hung
And lures the poet from her place of sleep
To wonder at the strange staccato thrum
Their nocturne fills the air with vibrato
Where musky dark is like a stadium
That veils the choir yet hails us to a show
That bids us let its cadences pervade
Staid skin and bone until the heart of hearts
Partakes of this anointed serenade
And the sweet summer-sadness it imparts
© Janet Martin
The dark is not yet drenched with cricket-song, but softly stippled with the prelude to late-summer's crescendo.