Crickets

during the day when we rise
they close their eyes.
underneath the leaves
beneath the bark of trees
or in a bush.

and thus when his head hits the pillow
or her body succumbs to rest
the humans remain indoors
but creatures emerge
to whisper secrets to one another
without being heard.

a massive game of telephone
where there is no ending message.
just a steady stream
a hum of restless voices.

and i hear them murmuring in my dreams.