Southern Summer Haiku

SG | Several times over the course of a Tuesday, my family and I passed a plump, iridescent cicada laying belly up in the driveway right in the path between the garage and the car. Late in the day, on my last trip outside, I happened to pause and study the poor little guy, as my children had done several times. How tragic, I thought, that he should weather so many seasons underground only to emerge and die here in our driveway. I toed it with the edge of my shoe.

And the damned thing flipped over and flew off erratically into the trees.

So goes summer in the South, full of the familiar, the strange and the slightly irksome. For whatever reason I was immediately inspired to write a haiku about that odd little insect.

Summer cicada.
You have died in my driveway.
Ah! You fly away.

And then I wrote some more.

A storm has rolled through.
How can it still be humid?
Another storm comes.

Clean from a shower.
“No, let me go get the mail.”
Gah — covered in sweat.

My grass is all brown.
Afternoon rain brings relief.
Now mow the weeds down.

Eating hushpuppies.
That meat done marinating?
One more hushpuppy.

Beer from the cooler
Bites cold and hard. Refreshment.
Beer from the fridge. Meh.

Hot car in the sun,
When will the AC cool you?
*fidgets with vent tab*

The spider watches,
Perfectly still on the floor.
There. Smacked with a shoe.

Hey! A Slip ‘N Slide.
I’ll show these kids how it’s done.
Why are my abs sore.

Sweet tea with ice, please.
I gulp eagerly. Still warm.
Swirl the ice. Still warm.

You there, cicada.
Do we walk too close? Silence.
Then wild flight, crackles.

I’ll just go barefoot.
Quick walk out to the trash can.
Well that was a slug.

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