The first time I heard the cicadas was when I moved to Cherry Mountain in the 1960s. I stopped at the foot of the mountain to get my mail out of my mailbox, and there stood Preacher Cable, pointing up and saying "The locust are back now screaming Pharaoh. Pharaoh." I could not get that song out of my head. Over the next few weeks, I wrote the poem posted below, "Cicadas Returning."
Reprinted in LIVING ABOVE THE FROST LINE
at Carolina Wren Press (2010)