A Landing and a Crescendoing Drone

an insect landed on a helpless hunter
by accident, it was flying, flying
around looking for wooded shrubs
or hardwood trees to land on,
it hoped to cajole a companion
and be cosy a bit and lay eggs
but it winged and leaped on him!
wasn't he dazed or superstitious?
doubtlessly he yelped: damn insect!

meanwhile, in a forested,
grassy expanse, a male one,
with its sucking mouthparts and all,
got the hunter thinking, thinking
of a leafhopper, a plant feeder;
its wings long, transparent,
it made it: a disturbing din,
a loud, shrill droning noise,
the male cicada vibrated
two membranes, yes, two
membranes on its abdomen,
it produced a shrill sound on
the underside of its abdomen,
the hunter heard its clamour
as if it were announcing a dusk
with its sound organ which is
NOT called a cymbal but a tymbal,
an instrumentalist that uses its ribs
to produce its rare jungle jazz music,
so concluded the bushed hunter in the bush