Lizzy Burnam 🐞

This morning I dusted dead cicadas 
off the window sill and watched a red-tailed
hawk fluff her wings on a telephone wire. 
At dusk I saw the lightning bugs blinking
lemon and gold above the lavender. 
If a tree trunk can seep through the smart black 
poles of a Chantilly fence, then who’s kept 
out? And to what avail is keeping in? 
I’ve never seen a street so empty
nor a lake so radiant green. Maybe 
it’s best to leave a dying thing alone.