About the Crickets

by Kate Sorbara

The eastern tree line is glazed with dying light.
From the pear tree a catbird solos
above the descant of crickets.
A farmer is mowing his hay at the end
of the first dry day in weeks.
Last night, I was invited into town
to watch a terrible movie.
It was an awful party. Everyone got drunk
before they had a good time.
For a while I tried to think of
odd and interesting things to say until
finally I called a friend to take me home.
It was too late, the damage already done.
Tonight I sit on the back deck
in good company.

— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 1