They drone.
A bone vibrating sound
That drills into my skull
Making sleep impossible
And my thoughts dull
As singing they pulse
Like waves on a shore

Made of hollow glass
Whistling and roaring
Pressing down on my chest
Making it hard to breathe.

This thick heavy heat
Brews with this seething noise
Causing my heart to beat
In time with the armoured percussion
Of tiny coloured bodies,
Iridescent wings and shiny red eyes
Striking the back screen door,
Until their demise notes the end

Of this summer symphony score
That will be rewritten
Twice as loud
Next year.