One of the cicadas fell onto my shoulder. I brushed it off and looked up. In the leaves above me hundreds of red eyes and glittering wings hung from trees like bizarre fruit.
I woke up from my dream and listened to the cicadas’ song. Suddenly I remembered what was hanging from the porch. They hung my dog. And next to my dog they hung my daughter.
The young folks, Cowtail and Steps, sped ahead of me. I couldn’t keep up, but I always eventually caught up with…