Jump to content
Attention, CICADA community!
  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is now closed. Learn more...

Recommended Posts

It is silent
But for the crunching 
of twigs under feet
And the scrape 
of kicking branches across asphalt
And the wind raking 
through the claws of the trees
That dip and dive and swoon
Cutting across the sky
The ghostly rattle of wood on wood
A dog barks
And a chorus follows it
The hands of the wind fly towards us
Grabbing at loose hair
Strands of sunlight
Too-big jackets that flatten against skin
Two geese call to each other,
Touching down on the lake
And the wind pulls at them, too
The rattle of metal and the need for power
Hums from behind houses
And the sky is too blue
The sun too bright
For there to be such wreckage
We shatter the silence with more metal
Which whines as it presses against trees
Sap and flesh 
showering from the wound
And the 
and scraping 
Returns again
And as we pull the carnage 
out of the road
Into the woods
The whispers of needles against asphalt rise again
We return home from our adventure victorious
In silence once more


so this came out more angsty than I wanted but I might rework it later. so many fallen trees everywhere I mean lordy. also like the generators? they kept going so long we all stopped hearing them even though they’re loud as fuck


  • Like 3

Share this post

Link to post
Share on other sites