The original illustration by Sans Souci was in gif form: the crickets were animated and appeared to jump on the page… click to enlarge

The Cricket Convention
©2001/post 9/11

I

How comforting

to hear the din

of the crickets’ convention

at 4 a.m.

The joy, chatter,

purring, singing, rowdy

white noise

at the grey hour between

night and day.

Lie awake and marvel

at their fearless innocence.

I think:

How lucky they are.

II

November first and it is five a.m.;

I awaken and hear the call

of one lonely cricket

who hadn’t the sense to hide

from the world

at the designated time.

Holden Caulfield [1]  would ask:

What happens to the crickets in winter?

I think:

What will happen to mankind?

And:

Why isn’t man kind?

And

wonder

Could I fit where the crickets go,

would I emerge next spring

to sing at the

crickets’ convention?

III

*****

The crickets revisited
8/5/08

When I squint my ears into the seeming silence,

to find my heart’s quiet,

to see the warmth of summer evenings

slowly leaving,

I hear Christmas coming.

It is the crickets.

Hiding in the tall grass

sharing daily talk,

standing at their street corners

ringing little sleigh bells.

[1] Holden Caulfiend is a character and narrator of J.D. Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye.” It is a coming of age story that, despite its moments of annoying adolescent growth, has very deep moments.  Holden wonders where the Central Park ducks go during the winter.  It is that touching innocence that harkens back to child like qualities of New Yorkers before 9/11.