In February by Rodd Whelpley

I miss the crickets
and cicadas – string section 
of a glorious summer.
The bows and arrows,
the whole history
of Valentines
can never be the equal
of the after-sunset hum
on June the fifth, heat lightning 
or else a violent storm –  
strobe light of clouds.
The syncopated ticks
of beetles on the window glass.
The ache of winter absent
in the marrow. Summer 
on the tongue, a cocktail mix, 
a stir of memory and snow, 
a jigger of anticipation.   

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Rodd Whelpley manages an electric efficiency program for 32 cities across Illinois and lives near Springfield. His poems have appeared inBarren, Tinderbox Poetry Journal, 2River View, Star 82 Review, The Chagrin River Review and other journals. Catch as Kitsch Can, his first chapbook, was published in 2018. Find him at www.RoddWhelpley.com.