Listening – a poem by Clayton Arble



Sitting on a fallen tree over the river,
I heard the thin, ancient sound
Of a cricket moving its wings.


I couldn’t spot him from the branch
I was sitting on. He never moved
Because the song never changed.


I decided to stay there a while.
Huge mosquitoes hovered around me.
Only the cricket was invisible.


Clayton Arble is a poet from Holyoke, Massachusetts.

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