Reading Basho, I Notice the Cicadas

The tympanal clicks in the hottest hours
counting out a song in another language.

One of mating, and not of love, 
that I know well and repeat myself 
in the five seven of this poem.

Two Haiku by Basho

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die

Lonely silence,
a single cicada’s cry
sinking into stone

Leave a comment about this post

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s