Lament for the Crickets

Underneath the echoes
of the distant pines,
thousands of crickets
reveal love — denied.
The dusk so bright
as if climates of old were gone;
a calling amplifies beside the glow
between my ears
attuned to whispers far,
for a moment plays
a tune of ruin;
but you laugh,
known all along,
and the cardinals beam.

From dusk to dawn
my soul remains the gleaner
of that girly dance,
descending crickets mingle
to a notation free
that stood not close.

• Gabriela Mistral