Many of the appurtenances in our hospitable land
Frightened the man on the ambassadorial mission
The temperature the venomous serpents the stinging plants
But none so much as the roaring cicada
Mating cry of course
The sound he found unpleasant
But the ubiquity of it the inevitability
Discomposed the envoy most of all
Nevertheless in his diplomatic tact
He distinguished for us an offense
Of merely environmental etiology
From one that issued from the mind of man
And how reprobate would such a mind have to be
To assail the sensibility of so gentle a guest
And yet in his disclosure his forgiveness of nature
He discloses further matter
That there are crimes that warrant consideration as crimes
And thus warrant consideration of sanction punishment or worse
Acts not of nature acts not of God
But acts committed by his beloved humanity
Representative of the old world he turned around
At some point he departed for a welcome return
Now surely in the ancient kingdom of his birth
Certain accidental accessories would have disturbed the composure
Of a sojourner from precincts now near at hand
But what of us who are left behind
Who cannot estrange ourselves from the cicada’s threat
Already so long-familiar
Is it our doom to be cradled forever
In the homely hominid brawl
Having forsaken our arboreal homeland
Yet never to have departed from the plains of Laetoli