On Summer

There used to be orange cicadas

green ones of course

their sci-fi heads

and chirping legs

but orange ones

I don’t know if they make them any more

there were wild plums

spilled and stained

on the footpath

we picked them from the trees

from the moment they were

just beyond too green

and risked stomach ache

by eating 1-2-3

I think there were

even black ones

cicadas that is

not plums

where did we find them?

secreted in the garden

wandering along window sills

they seem such a wild

and exotic thing now

but then they were part

of every day life

in sprinkler soundtrack

itch of cooch grass

wall climbing

bitumen burning

tin roof scrambling

white hot clothes line drying

panting dog

shimmer

and by the end of summer

we had a collection

of brittle brown shells

artifacts

trophies

weapons with which to

scare each other

finding them perched

on shoulders

creeping through hair

waiting in cool bed sheets

upstairs was hot and stifling

we all slept on the floor

in the lounge room

when nights got too hot

there was no air conditioning

just a brick house

with a slate verandah

and steps leading down

to the front path

lined with roses

that were pruned every year

and bloomed

and there were orange cicadas

and black ones too

they were special

enough to score points

but not so rare as to be worth

reporting to anyone

other than ourselves

not so rare

and yet I’ve not seen

a single one since

leaving childhood

do they make them that way

any more?