crack crack crack
The ground was full of brittle crackly things
They broke as I walked.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
I thought I was walking on lightbulbs.
I stopped walking to look and see
These things were curvy and brittle.
I put them on my fingers and wore them to dinner.
They were cicada shells
Not a big hit with others at the table.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2024
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