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




Image: Kobayashi Kiyochika (Japan, 1880), Fireflies at Ochanomizu (via Wikimedia)


Terrestrial stars constellating at the river edge.

The stars shift in the night sky,

but that’s only because we are moving.

This chemical cold fire sends a message –

like us, looking for mate, or prey.