The Crickets Eyes

The sky above
was some unsure shade of blue
And the black shapes of pines
poked over the rooftops

A cricket Chirruped
as was fitting for such an evening
of hushed unease
Its unseen, black pearl eyes
staring from somewhere,
nowhere
With mute invertebrate
wisdom

I stood
And felt the crickets eyes
Running through my veins
I almost felt the valves opening
to his frightening wisdom
And the soft, ever deepening
blue night crushing everything
As if the earth were the very crucible
of love itself