by Richard J. O’Brien

cicadas lay dead in the street
on brittle ruined wings,

their armored bellies
warmed by the midday sun.

this knowledge stricken
from them the moment they molt,

rather than face

the stinging reality of ruined wings
upon hot asphalt.

Richard J. O’Brien is a writer who lives in New Jersey. His poems recently appeared in Midwest Literary Review. Mr. O’Brien served in the army, attended Rutgers University where he received his B.A. in English. Currently, Mr. O’Brien is pursuing his MFA in Creative Writing from Fairleigh Dickinson University where he is a reader for The Literary Review.