Extended Limbs

I like to imagine          
the last summer crickets            
are singing just for me            
with leggy tunes            
each barbed            
extended limb            
cracking a cool night’s quiet        
playing out since June            
lifting up in stems of rhythm            
a cricket’s skein of sound            
seem to pluck a pizzicato            
of  fiddled wishes            
pulses through around            
each moon-crossed fissure            
mysterious as wisteria’s            
darkened  forms            
each reminiscent        
dog-night trill        
resurrects inside of me  
the dream I can't quite kill            
before the pulsing          
warm nights pull        
up their tapered          
cotton sheets            
perhaps we can     
reveal ourselves  
'mid soft sonatas        
of bowing insect feet