In August the cicadas burst
into a new song. In August
I took refuge in the scaffolds

and built home from the
ground up. The runaway kids,
they don’t know much except

for the distant blow of a train
and the bitter taste of defeat—
too familiar for a gentle night

like this. The mothers sit in their
rooms, unfold their legs as if
giving birth to another summer.

Abandoned shirt in the corner,
ripped envelopes in the wind,
photograph of a child tilted to

obscurity. We try to escape but
there’s nowhere for us to go—
not in this country. In August

the nights bloom open like a
bruise. In August the cicadas’
soft hum sends a reminder—

come back home,
come back home,
come back home.

Cindy Song is a rising senior at Richard Montgomery High School. Her writing appears or is forthcoming in Cicada Magazine, Words Dance, and National Poetry Quarterly. When not writing, Cindy likes to create oil paintings and take long walks in nature.