Tag Archives: Frogs

The joke

 

A group of invisible frogs
Chuckle noisily together
Over some private joke
In their corner of the swamp.
Curious,
I draw near; they fall silent.
So I resume my wandering
And they resume their laughter.
This time, I presume,
The joke is me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Frogs and Wrinkles

I spent some time at the Ozarks this weekend. Two poems happened. 



The warm evening air
Gently carries the song
Of a hundred happy frogs
Over the water.

The people are out too,
Talking to each other on their porches.
Their voices different
But they sing the same tune.

 

And this little haiku:

 

Time presses wrinkles

Earned remnants of smiles or frowns

Thumbprint of a soul