Cicada
A cicada screams rhythmically
In synchronicity
With the guitar
In the song
Blasting forth from the radio
As slowly waning sunlight
Gently filters down
Through clouds and contrails
In an otherwise blue sky
People I do not know
Talk and laugh nearby
Others play and swim
Filling this shared space
With a unique camaraderie
And though I am surrounded
I feel a sense
Of isolation and loneliness
Yet also of contentment
Because everything is fine
Yet everything is only fine