Forest Floor Aubade
The world is made of insects
and amphibians searching
for each other in the dark
and moon-mad morning. All
animals wake up hungry or horny.
Or both. Full out cacophony of legs
playing on each other like a violin,
throats like tambourines, a thorax
that makes all the cicadas jealous.
Is it the excitement of desire
or the hope for mere moments
of satisfaction to come that sings
us all into daylight? The calm knowing
that eventually we will find each other—
all spindly legs or branch-torn wings.