Goodbye Cicadas, Goodbye Summer

A cool September evening

and bars of brassy light,
low-angled,

stripe my back bent
over a drawing table

studying the body
of a cicada carcass.

Found in the garden
dead
clinging to a support
above the earth 
where it had laid it's eggs

after a passionate August affair
that it had spent years
anticipating.

Hours passed
giving my full attention
to every detail of the body
recording with crow quill pen
and india ink.

Considering the perfect balance
of it's form,
the grand finale of it's existence
 surpassing even the need
to eat
or maintain it's own life
so dedicated to love
and reproduction
it was.

I cannot help but feel

respect and affection
for this being

and it's kin.