There are those who might find such an experience unnerving but I considered their unexpected presence propitious and cause for celebration.
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FROGS
Tonight, on flagstones, drawn by rain,
frogs have congregated.
Drizzle falls gently,
like acupuncture needles,
on slick, camouflaged skin.
They squat there,
a dozen Buddhist monks,
bulbous eyes blinking.
My torchlight does not disturb them.
Rhythmically,
synchronistically,
their leather throats pulsate.
I like your descriptions of the frogs, camouflaged Budist monks conjures some interesting images in my mind!
ReplyDeleteDespite recording this multiple frog sighting in a poem, don't think I've quite captured the absolute otherness of it. A spooky moment!
ReplyDelete