Ode to the Cricket



The evening is alive with the sounds of nature.

A competition between insect and bird.

Who will win?

The sun slides slowly down behind the beautiful Rocky Mountains.

A sign for the birds to sleep.

A bat flaps overhead

Hunting for food.

I shiver, I don’t like bats.

The noise of the night changes, as the crickets come to life.

Time to find a partner, time to mate.

Their call overpowers the silence of the night.

It’s a good night to be a cricket.

Dead of July (Small)



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