Locusts
What a surprise it is to hear
that locusts come the thirteenth year
and not the seventeenth as told
for ages and enshrined in old
folklore and rhymes and family lies.
The species similar otherwise:
cicadas books call periodic,
found here in our southern district.
They grow from eggs pressed into twigs.
The nymphs that hatch then start to dig
at least ten inches into soil,
and live by sucking juicy oil
from roots and stems, sweet sap
that nourishes through the giant nap,
and then the lucky thirteenth year
they grow a polished armor
and crawl into the summer air
and, louder than a Mahler choir,
fill meadow, hedge, and orchard grove
with necessary calls for love,
then leave their eggs to fortune's whim
with Philip Glass-like requiem.
Copyright Credit: "Chance" from Dark Energy: Poems by Robert Morgan, copyright © 2015 by Robert Morgan. Reprinted by permission of Penguin Books, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.