21:49.
The crickets cry
as the darkness
reminds them to sing.
Because, like me,
they cannot breathe
between the strum of strings.
I can barely see
the silhouette
of a green mountain
in the distance.
Resplendent
in the sun,
hours past,
it bade me,
“Sing!”
I did. I sung.
I wrote a song
here among
the crickets.
But they were asleep then…
now, in their din,
they wish me
to rewrite a verse
because it was unworthy
of the darkness, coming.
Now I’m nervous
about crickets
and what they think.
Their criticism hurts me
because I had too much
to drink.
The first line of that song was,
“Don’t forget what happened
on that green mountain,
it was there that I first held
your hand…”
I think.
© CG Tenpenny, 2021.
I’m at a campground in the Appalachian Mountain foothills, near Blue Ridge, Georgia, USA. That’s my campfire. I am writing songs and enjoying the fleeting coolness of early Autumn. I wish you peace.
Gorgeous poetry, as always.
Thank you 🙏