By Sandra Rippetoe © 2023

I’ve been called “ugly.” And “frightening.” I envy butterflies.
My hundred decibel buzz is startling. So are my bulgy eyes.

You may find my exoskeleton – empty, yet clinging to a tree.
Some say it looks scary. It’s normal, to insects like me.

I don’t have jaws to bite you. Don’t worry, I do not sting.
But I am extremely loud when I shake, rattle, and zing.

Don’t confuse me with a snake and I don’t like being a fly named “Jar.”
There’s a reason for my rattle which can be heard both near and far.

It’s how Ms. Cicada finds me. I’m calling for a mate.
It’s the middle of September. I’m actually kind of late.

Some people hate it, but the female bugs love our sound.
I apologize for the commotion when there are lots of us males around.

Other creatures seeking a mate, to be fair, do their noisy part.
Crickets, katydids, and tree frogs sing mating songs from their hearts.

Avoiding hungry birds can be a bit tricky.
My song gives me away, and they’re not very picky.

We come out every year unlike our periodical cousins
that stay underground a long time, one or five years plus a dozen.

So what is our purpose in this grand web of life?
Are we here just to be eaten? Or to cause auditory strife?

Since many insects are silent, way too many to list,
maybe our noise is a reminder . . .  Bugs are alive, we exist!

Cicadas are loud. We’re bold. We make ourselves known.
We can even get attention when humans are on phones.

If it ever goes quiet in summer, watch out.
That indicates trouble, without a doubt.

Think of us as ambassadors, here on this earth,
declaring a message: Insects have worth!

A bug is important, no matter how small.
Please take care of the tiniest . . .
It makes a difference for all.

(PS I know “tiny” is a relative term. Perhaps I’d be described as rather large  compared to other insects. But, hey, when you compare me to humans, I am tiny!)